


carry on, darling, we were built to last

by karasunotsubasa



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (spoiler: yuuri the most), Age Difference, Aging, Angst, Birthday, Blindfolds, Blowjobs, Comfort, Crack, Cuddling & Snuggling, DON'T YOU DARE MAKE VICTOR CRY YUURI, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Drinking, EP12 MORE LIKE CONTINUOUS SCREAMING, Feeding Kink, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Glasses, HELLO THERE KARE SHIRT KINK, Hair Brushing, Hand Feeding, Headaches & Migraines, Hurt/Comfort, Just Married, KISS THE RING IN GPF EROS YUURI, Kissing, Light Angst, Living Together, Lucky Charms, M/M, Mouth Fucking, Neck Kissing, Nicknames, Old Age, Pet Names, Pillow Fights, Slow Dancing, Smut, The Pocky Game, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Valentine's Day, Victor is too pretty, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, Wooing, and we all love him, birthday kisses, coach victor teaching life lessons to all, even more crying vitya bc yall are demons, fuck cotton candy, hair insecurities, happy vitya is all I need in life, make victor happy 2k16, makka's death in ch44, matching ties, pair skating, sappy victor, secrets of victor's family, silly seduction, snowflake rings, so what if it's not gold, strong yuuri and soft victor are my favs, vicchan was named after victor, victor CAN cook, victor is a drama queen, victor is never gonna forget about the pole dancing, victor is pure and beautiful, victor is wearing yuuri's coat in ep10, victor speaking french, vitya is fucking whipped, what if victor was carrying the ring from ep1, yuuri admires yurio's skating, yuuri is as sweet as a muffin, yuuri nikiforov or victor katsuki, yuuri petting vitya's hair, yuuri princess carrying victor, yuuri wins gold in the next GPF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-07 06:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 58
Words: 45,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8786569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunotsubasa/pseuds/karasunotsubasa
Summary: drabbles, drabbles, and even more drabbles dedicated to fam on ice





	1. even if

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri isn't sure Victor meant it when he told everyone they'd marry after he wins gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I finally caved in bc of reasons and here you're gonna have a few drabbles for the new trending thing(TM) lmao  
> hope you enjoy~

"Were you serious?" Yuuri asked, glancing at Victor's profile as the elevator climbed up towards their floor.

"What do you mean?"

Yuuri shifted nervously, conscious of the sudden weight of the golden band on his finger.

"About what you said, marrying me after I win gold?"

Too scared it was just a joke, he couldn't look straight at Victor. It would be cruel to play with his heart in that way and Yuuri doubted Victor would do something like that, but... He sneaked a peek at the mirror wall in front of them.

And maybe it was worse than directly watching Victor smile, in that soft, caring way Yuuri was still not used to even after months of seeing it; maybe it was worse, because now he felt like a secret pervert and it just _burned so right_ to spy all those changes of tender, wordless affection go through Victor's face when his smile turned into an expression of gentle sincerity.

Yuuri's cheeks dusted pink and he snapped his eyes away awkwardly, only to jump when Victor took his hand.

The hand with the ring gleaming in the bright elevator lights.

"I would never joke about it," Victor said solemnly, lifting Yuuri's hand and kissing the gold band.

Relief and embarrassment washed over Yuuri simultaneously and his body didn't know for a moment what to do: to breathe or to fidget. So he stood frozen, watching their joined hands and the matching rings, so beautiful, so precious, so _gold_.

 "But," Victor continued talking. "I'll marry you even if you don't win."

"Wha– But you said–" Yuuri started confused.

"I did," Victor's smile turned playful when he cocked his head to the side and his eyes squinted in that cheerful way that always made Yuuri smile as well. "If you don't win gold I'll be the one planning the whole thing, though."

Somehow Yuuri couldn't really bring himself to care about that. He was about to voice it, when Victor said:

"I'll rent the whole cathedral and we'll have white roses and baldachins of white silk draped all around it and then a coach pulled by six white horses and–"

"Stop, stop!" Yuuri cut him off, nervous laughter getting stuck in his chest. "That's way too much!"

"Eh? I don't think so. We should get the best of the best of the best to–"

"Victor," Yuuri stepped closer, catching Victor's hand in both of his and holding it as if it was the most precious thing in the world. _And it was_. "If I win, we'll do it my way, okay?"

Victor's smile brightened, "Okay."

When the elevator door ringed open and Victor sauntered out, humming the wedding march under his breath, Yuuri couldn't help a fond smile at the sudden feeling of having played right into Victor's hands.

But, well, he didn't necessarily mind that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they really got engaged I cannot believe //swoons


	2. in spite of everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is pissed that people try to tell him what he can or can't do and Otabek is there to do damage control. He always is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [@natsubutart](http://natsubutart.tumblr.com/) and other shippers of this cute lil ship who don't deserve the dumb anons, give ppl a break will ya, there's only so much dumb one can handle

The door slammed against the wall and Otabek barely looked up to see an angry Yuri storm inside with a fierce scowl on his face. He looked back at his book, then at the pacing Yuri, and pulled off his reading glasses. Setting them, and the book, on the small table he focused his attention on his now growling guest. 

"Have you seen this crap?" Yuri barked, flipping his phone in Otabek's direction.

"What crap?" he asked.

"This... this... UGH."

Slightly amused, Otabek watched Yuri kick his bed until he was satisfied and left panting in silent anger. Otabek stood up and pried Yuri's phone from his gnarled fingers. He scrolled through what seemed to be Yuri's indirect tags on twitter. And they were full of...

"Oh," he said, nonplussed. "So, what about it?"

"Huh?" Yuri's mercilessly narrowed eyes turned on him. "What do you mean 'what about it'? Aren't you pissed?!"

"Why should I be?" Otabek shrugged. "Do you like me or not?"

He watched Yuri's face change from anger to angry embarrassment, with a cheerfully red blush blooming on his cheeks and sneaky eyes that looked anywhere but at him.

"That's not what this is about," Yuri ground out.

"Isn't it?"

Otabek grabbed Yuri's chin and pulled it up with gentle fingers to make their gazes meet.

"Do you like me or not?"

Yuri's jaw clicked stubbornly. "I do."

"Do you want to date me?" Otabek asked again.

"I do," Yuri admitted again, with a deeper blush which made Otabek's heart satisfied in ways he couldn't voice now if he wanted to make his point.

"Do you think I'm abusing you in any way?" he pressed further, expecting the reply already.

Yuri smirked. "I'd like to see you try. I'd kick your ass so hard you'd have problems sitting for years."

Otabek huffed a breath of laughter. It was just like Yuri to say that.

"Do you care about what those idiots think of our relationship?" he asked finally. "When they don't know either of us?"

Fingers closed around his wrist and Otabek let go of Yuri's chin. Yuri moved his hand and twined their fingers together before squeezing them hard with a nasty smile. Otabek squeezed his hand back just as hard.

"Fine," Yuri replied. "You better distract me then. Or I'll go online and it won't be pretty."

When he brushed his other hand through Yuri's silky hair, Otabek really wanted to do that himself, with the exception that he would be thanking those idiots, because if nothing, they solidified what he already knew – Yuri was his and he was Yuri's, and they belonged together in spite of everyone who might think otherwise.

_Suck it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> srsly done with kids yodeling about age gap ships being abusive, stop. yuri would kick yalls asses if he knew what ur doing.


	3. dusty old ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what if Victor brought a ring with him from Russia? He was just waiting for the right time to pop the question. Give the boy a break.

It was always there.

In his inner pocket, sitting in a small box just to make sure he didn't lose it.

A ring, gold like fried corn, shimmering, beautiful, priceless.

But the courage to pull it out was always gone, the words to speak were nowhere to be found, and Victor let it sit there: never forgotten, but never acknowledged either.

He tried, _oh_ , he tried to make it happen.

Like the time he kissed Yuuri after the Cup of China performance. His fingers itched to just pull it out and finally do it, but their argument was fresh in his mind and must have been just as much in Yuuri's, so he decided to wait it through. Find a better time.

And he did, at Rostelecom he was so close... When Yuuri pulled him by the tie, a rare show of his possessive side, Victor's hopes skyrocketed. The kiss that Yuuri blew to him was just the cherry on top. Victor was ecstatic as Yuuri skated, an almost perfect program that made Victor's blood sing to the tune Yuuri's skates made as they cut harshly into the ice.

The gold band in his pocket called out to him and Victor clutched his fingers around it, whispering a breathless "Soon," to keep himself from dropping to his knees then and there.

Soon didn't come, though.

The news of Makkachin's state brought a halt to his plans. There was no time to cry over it. His recent elation coated with worry for both, his beloved dog and Yuuri, and before he could as much as kiss Yuuri goodbye he was on a plane to Japan.

Their reunion on the airport, however, was a perfect moment. A moment Victor should've used. Yuuri jumped into his arms and the weight of his body pressed against Victor's felt so right, so perfect, so flawless... the words just couldn't come. His throat refused to listen.

When Yuuri asked him to take care of him until he retires, Victor's heart almost shattered from all the love contained in it. He took Yuuri's hand, fighting off the trembling of his own, and kissed his fingers – a gesture so soft it made Yuuri's brown eyes melt into a warm, welcoming hue of safety and home.

"It sounded almost like a proposal," Victor said, disbelieving what he'd heard because... he was the one planning to say it first.

The ring in his pocket was still there, a reminder and a proof, but somehow Victor couldn't bring it out. This was Yuuri's moment and he was going to let him have it.

And when Yuuri pulled him back into a hug, Victor couldn't help a small sigh. He pressed his cheek to the side of Yuuri's head and with his eyes blissfully closed, whispered: "I wish you'd never retire."

_I wish I could take care of you forever._

His forever didn't come till Barcelona, though, but when it did – with a choir singing carols and winter air brushing Yuuri's cheeks pink – it was the forever he knew was worth waiting for.

Yuuri had called it a good luck charm, but Victor noticed how gentle his hands were when they took off his glove, how Yuuri held Victor's hand like something precious, how his fingers trembled a little when he struggled to push a golden ring past Victor's knuckle.

A ring just like the one resting in Victor's pocket.

"Thank you for everything up till now," Yuuri said just as the bells started tolling. "I... I couldn't think of something better."

Neither could Victor.

So when he pulled out the ring that's been with them through their whole journey, and Yuuri's eyes widened a little, he was sure this was the best time he could ever hope for.

He took Yuuri's hand and pushed the ring on his finger, just as slowly and carefully as Yuuri did before. Just with as much love and honesty to the promise he was now making.

"Tomorrow," he said gently, "show me the performance you can be proudest of, okay?"

In Yuuri's trembling form he saw all the feelings that were bubbling in his own chest. The happiness, the incredulity, the sheer awe of what just happened. He watched Yuuri's eyes travel up from the golden ring to Victor's eyes and when their gazes met, Victor was glad he waited.

He would always be glad he waited.

Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> forgive me I'm in love with the rings and there'll be like 3 more drabbles about this shit bc fml I'M IN LOVE WITH THOSE RINGS OKAY BYE


	4. secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There should be no secrets between spouses... right?

"Yuuri," Victor started to gain his attention. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure?" Yuuri replied, a little uncertain because... since when did Victor ever ask for permission to barrage him with questions?

Tilting his head to the side in a way that made his silver hair swipe from his forehead, Victor looked at him with rapt interest.

"So now that we reminded you of the banquet last year..." Yuuri was already groaning before he even listened to the rest. "Can you tell me where you learned pole dancing?"

"Victor," he whined, but Victor didn't take it back.

"Come on, Yuuri," he probed. "You looked amazing up there on the pole, I'm just curious." And when that didn't seem to work either, he added: "You know, spouses shouldn't keep secrets from each other."

And Yuuri was ready to die.

"Is it really that important?" Yuuri tried to wiggle out of it for the last time, with little success.

"I want to get some lessons, too," Victor announced. "So that next time we can dance together! Wouldn't that be super fun?"

Yuuri laughed, more of a choked coughing than laughter. Yeah, _fun_.

"I..." he finally started. "Okay, okay, fine. I can teach you. If you... want?"

"Yes, I'd love to!"

Before Yuuri could gather what was happening, Victor was holding him in his arms and crushing him in one of his famous bear hugs that left Yuuri winded for more than one reason. Just as Yuuri was bringing himself to return the hug, Victor was already moving away, _skipping_ , all bubbling joy and smiles.

Yuuri couldn't help but smile at him as well. There was just no way to resist it when Victor was this contagiously happy.

"Hey, hey, Yuuri," Victor started again and Yuuri hummed to let him know he was listening. "We should install a pole at home. To practice with, you know."

"Where would we even fit that–"

One look at Victor's face was enough to tell him all he needed to know.

"Victor, no."

"Victor, yes," Victor said, almost making Yuuri laugh. Almost.

"I'm not moving to Russia with you," Yuuri insisted like it was a conversation they already had countless times before.

And they did. Twice. Once when Victor was showing him around St. Petersburg, a careless comment made and laughed off. And once more in Barcelona, right before Yuuri took off to the rink at the Grand Prix Final. Really great timing, Yuuri thought with an embarrassed flush at the memory.

"But Yuuri–"

"You can move to Japan just as easily," Yuuri cut the whine off with no shred of mercy. "You said it yourself, you love Hasetsu."

Victor hummed. "That wouldn't be so bad."

Yuuri nodded, smiling a little. No, it wouldn't be so bad. Not bad at all.

"So where would we put the pole?"

Yuuri groaned.   

"Oh, that made me think! Yuuri!"

Victor swirled in place and caught Yuuri by the arms. His eyes sparkled and shone so bright it was impossible to look away, but also blinding.

"My stag night!" Victor was all childish excitement and bright eyes, which made him so cute that Yuuri almost agreed to whatever he was going to say without thinking, but... "You'll dance for me, right?"

His face must have betrayed his confusion, reluctance and sheer _fear_ , because Victor's smile widened. Just like Yuuri's eyes did.

"It's tradition, Yuuri," Victor said.

And in that moment Katsuki Yuuri swore never to take a drop of alcohol in his mouth ever again. Because the consequences were haunting and Yuuri was scared for his sanity. For real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will forever dream of yuuri doing strip tease on a pole for victor at his stag night, we need that so badly dear lord  
> (also G O D excited victor is making me squeal so much he's such a cutie //sobs)


	5. life and love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor has never been happier.

In the midst of a dark December night, Victor rolled over, scooching closer to the nearest source of warmth. But once broken out of the cycle, sleep was hard to come by again, so he tossed and turned, and finally groaned his frustration into the bare shoulder of the heavenly warm body pressed to his.

It seemed to be enough to wake up the sleeping beauty next to him, though.

Bleary eyes blinked at him unseeingly.

"Vic'or?"

He couldn't help but smile softly. "Shh, go back to sleep."

But Yuuri was stubborn like that, so he rolled over, lying himself face to face with Victor. He barely managed to lift a lazy hand in time to cover a yawn, which in and of itself was adorable, but Victor's eyes caught on the gold ring resting on Yuuri's finger and his heart swell in his chest.

The ring, the good luck charm as Yuuri had called it, sat on Yuuri's hand regally, like a promise of a bright tomorrow, the most precious of all. A matching ring was on Victor's own hand, gleaming in the dim light coming through the window when he moved his hand across the sheets. The weight of gold on his finger was nothing compared to the weight it held in his heart – it was heavy and solemn, but warm and welcome, and Victor wouldn't give it up for anything now that he knew how _right_ it felt.

"Why are you awake at this hour?" Yuuri asked, his eyes droopy and unfocused, and it made the soft affection melt Victor's heart further.

"It's nothing," he replied, lifting a hand, _the_ hand, to caress Yuuri's cheek. Yuuri leaned into it with no hesitation. Suddenly, Victor couldn't keep his mouth shut anymore. "I'm thinking of today. Of the promise we made. I'm so happy I just can't sleep!"

Yuuri's breathy laughter was precious, and Victor's grin widened.

"You say that now, but tomorrow you'll be napping the day away," Yuuri teased.

"Oh, no, I won't!" Victor denied. "Tomorrow's the big day, I'll definitely be awake to see you win gold."

Yuuri groaned at that, turning away from him and burrowing his face into the pillow. A few muffled words were too mangled to reach Victor's ears, but after so many months of being together, he could roughly guess what it was about. He lifted himself on an elbow and hugged Yuuri's back.

"You'll do just fine, Yuuri," he said, pressing a small kiss to Yuuri's nape, which did the trick and made Yuuri turn around. "You've practiced so hard and so long, I'm sure this will be your best performance yet."

"How can you have so much faith in me?" Yuuri asked, slightly in awe.

And Victor only smiled tenderly.

"Because I've watched you all this time and I know the progress you've made. You _can_ do it."

Before Yuuri could say anything else, Victor reached for his hand and brought it to his lips, grinning cheekily at Yuuri over the gleaming golden band.

"And then we'll get married," he announced and kissed the ring.

And Yuuri groaned and pushed him onto his back with a weak whine of "Don't put more pressure on me, Victor!" that made Victor laugh, because it was _funny_ , he was _happy_ , and he couldn't wait to live like that for the rest of his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy victor is all I want in life pls make my boy happy yuuri //sobs


	6. seduce me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last Eros. Victor wants Yuuri to seduce him, but... the gold ring on his finger is a proof he already did.

Warming up the day of the Grand Prix Final was the hardest. A knot sat low in Yuuri's stomach, heavy and solid, so different from the jittery nervousness he felt the year before. He could sense many pairs of eyes on him as the blades of his skates cut through the ice, but there was one set that made his back straighter.

He couldn't disappoint him now. Too much was riding on this.

He slid to a stop before Victor, blew his nose, and took a deep breath before looking him in the eye. He was afraid of what he could see there, even after all this time, scared of the unvoiced expectations in Victor's blue eyes.

But as always, Victor was a surprise. There was nothing in his eyes but open excitement and warm support, and Yuuri snickered to himself. He was such an idiot.

"Yuuri," Victor said, reaching for his hand, which Yuuri offered freely. "You're far too tense. Are you nervous?"

"Is– Is it that obvious?" he swallowed.

Victor smiled at him like he knew him far too well. And maybe he did.

"Yuuri," he repeated his name like a charm, bringing Yuuri's hand up and kissing the golden band that sat proudly on Yuuri's finger. "Remember what you're skating for, _who_ you're skating for. Don't think about the people here. Skate for me."

And then with a tilt of his head to the side, his smile sharpened just a little. Yuuri's heart trembled in his chest when Victor's lips moved over the shine of the promise ring:

"Seduce me."

It was something Victor kept telling him before every performance and on which, judging by the matching golden band on Victor's finger, Yuuri has delivered.

Skate for Victor, huh? He could do that. He _would_ do that.

Yuuri gave Victor a small smile.

"Don't take your eyes off of me," he warned, squeezing Victor's hand lightly and getting a nod and an excited smile in return.

Feeling lighter than before, Yuuri skated his way out to the centre of the rink. The weight of gold around his finger was a subtle comfort, a small piece of Victor that was with him on the ice, giving him the courage he needed to push through.

He stood in position, waiting for the music to start, while his heart kept beating to the unique tune Victor put in it.

Eros.

His Eros.

_Their_ Eros.

Briefly his eyes connected with startling blue and when the music started, Yuuri moved.

His hands shaped the air, his head rolled seductively, his waist bent as he allowed all the tension to roll off his shoulders and focus on only one thing – skating his best for Victor.

And when he took a step to the side, snapping his head to look straight at Victor, his hand lifted almost of its own and Yuuri kissed his ring, mirroring Victor's gesture from moments ago. Connected by more than just skating, a current of true unison passed between them: from Victor's sparkling eyes to Yuuri's squinted ones; true and honest.

The music jumpstarted and Yuuri broke away, still feeling Victor's gaze on him while he danced. And, oh, he danced. He danced like no one else was watching. No one but Victor.

And that's how he liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REALLY NEED THOSE RING KISSES IN TODAY'S EP LIKE COME ON YOI STAFF GIVE US THOSE RING KISSES GDI LET US HAVE THIS PLSSSSS


	7. trophy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Let's end this," Yuuri said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next ep is gonna be bittersweet so I have to get rid of all the bitter now and stock up on sweet to SURVIVE  
> here's a smol thing if u wanna go thru it with me, enjoy ;u;

"Let's end this," Yuuri said.

His heart should be hammering in his chest, but he couldn't really tell. His body was mostly numb, a little cold from stress, but he could feel the rapid pulsing somewhere under his jaw, which clearly told him the edge was near.

He swallowed and licked his lips, but it was still there, choking the words he wanted to speak.

"After tomorrow, let's stop," he said.

"Stop?" Victor sat before him, his eyes a little wide, uncomprehending. "Stop what, Yuuri?"

Yuuri's lips quirked all of their own, a small bitter smile. "You coaching me."

He watched the shock paint across Victor's face, watched his blue eyes dull, watched his mouth set in a thin line, before...

"Why?"

_Because you don't look at me like you used to._

"Today made me realize something," Yuuri said instead, a pang of hurt cursing through his body. "I'm just... I'm tired, Victor." He looked into blue eyes, feeling as if he was about to cry. "I'm going to retire after tomorrow. It's enough."

"Are you sure?" Victor asked, concern lacing his voice. "You still have the stamina and your joints are fairly flexible, you could still–"

Yuuri shook his head. "I don't want to. I don't–"

His voice broke and the rest of the sentence was choked from his throat by a dry sob. Victor's arms were around him in seconds, warm hands rubbing into Yuuri's back comfortingly and unclogging some of the feelings locked in his chest.

"I know you want to go back to skating," he whispered, clutching onto Victor's bathrobe as if he wanted to stop him from going. Victor didn't move, though, and Yuuri's fears subsided just a little. "I saw your face when you were watching Chris and Yurio, and even Otabek."

He felt Victor shake his head, the still wet ends of his silver hair slapping against Yuuri's face like drops of rain.

"I was just admiring their skating," Victor denied. "It has nothing to do with–"

"I saw your face, Victor." Yuuri pulled away from the embrace to look Victor in the eye. "I _saw_ how you looked. You want to go back."

_And I'm the only thing stopping you._

"That doesn't mean you have to retire, Yuuri," Victor tried again. "Wouldn't it be amazing if we could compete against each other?"

Yuuri's smile turned bitter again. "We already did. Remember how it ended?"

"But you're different now! I'm different too," Victor insisted, something desperate in his eyes that tugged on Yuuri's heartstrings.

He shook his head anyway. It was no use trying to convince him. He'd already made his decision.

"It's because I'm different that I'm saying this," he said. "I want to retire after this season."

And when Victor wanted to argue further, Yuuri pressed a finger to his lips, smiling gently at him.

"It's enough, Victor." He moved his hand, letting his thumb caress the corner of Victor's mouth in a tender gesture. "Thank you for being with me through all of this, but it's enough. You can go back now."

Victor's jaw clicked under Yuuri's fingers.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," he said, and Yuuri's eyes widened.

Victor took his hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the gold ring that gleamed around Yuuri's finger. Yuuri watched Victor cover his hand in both of his and lay them in his lap.

"Yuuri," Victor called his name and Yuuri's head snapped up.

Victor smiled at him, a precious smile: soft and loving,  a smile of comfort and warmth that made Yuuri's heart ache even more.

"You taught me so many things, you changed the man I was," Victor said. "There's no words that could express the gratitude and love I have for you. So if you're doing this just for me, please, don't." The hands locked around his own tightened, a gesture of pleading desperation. "If it is something you truly wish for yourself, for your own wellbeing, then I won't say anything. But if you're concerned about me, I've never been happier than here by your side, so, please, don't make me leave."

Yuuri's throat was so tight it physically hurt when he swallowed. And when he opened his mouth to reply, it took him a while to find his voice. But finally, he managed to whisper a few hoarse words.

"I'll think about it..."

Victor squeezed his hand, but he could've just as well squeezed Yuuri's heart, because for a while now, willingly given, he held it in his hands like a trophy of their love and... Yuuri didn't want it back.

Not yet, not ever.

It belonged to Victor and that's where he wanted it to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is probably the most angst I will ever write for these two bUT IT HURTS ANYWAY //GROSS SOBBING  
> #LETMYKIDSBEHAPPYGDI


	8. drunk on love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Yuuri is stronger than people suspect...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something lighthearted bc we all need it in face of ep11

"Yuuri, you shouldn't!" Victor protested. "What if you sprain something?"

"Please," Yuuri almost snorted. "You're not that heavy, Victor, really."

"But–"

Yuuri cut off his whining by kissing a surprised Victor on the forehead and grinning down at him.

"Let me do this," he said.

Victor's cheeks painted pink and his eyes shone, a little embarrassed, and mostly lovestruck, as he nodded his okay weakly. Yuuri's grin widened. He readjusted his hold on Victor – one arm under his knees and the other supporting his waist and back.

Victor hushed down, suddenly awed by what was happening, by the very idea that _Yuuri_ was _princess carrying_ him through the corridor of their hotel in Barcelona where they _just got married_. And okay,  now that Yuuri thought about it, it was a big deal. Shit, it was a _huge deal_.

He stumbled a little on an uneven part of the carpet, making Victor squeak.

"See, I'm too heavy! Put me down, Yuuri!"

"No way."

Yuuri was stubborn and he'd see this through no matter what. They were almost at the door anyway. He'd picked Victor up when they got off the elevator, Victor's surprised squawk still ringing in Yuuri's ears and making him grin like a loon. Who knew Victor could make sounds like that?

The weight was there, he could feel sweat break out on his lower back and nape, but Victor really wasn't that heavy. No wonder, he was a professional skater for so many years. The diet, restrictive training program, it all made his silhouette slim and muscle-packed, with little fat to weigh him down. In Yuuri's arms he felt like a heavy but manageable weightlift of funny proportions and even funnier reactions.

A glance down made Yuuri painfully aware of how close Victor's flushed face was to his and when Yuuri stopped at the door to their room, he couldn't stop himself from kissing one of those precious red cheeks. Victor's eyes shone as he turned his head to him.

"You have the key, right?" Yuuri asked.

"Oh!" Victor looked a little embarrassed for a second, ruffling through his pockets until he found the card.

Yuuri stepped closer to the door and Victor swiped the key. The door clicked open and Yuuri balanced himself on one leg to push it wider with the other. Victor's arms were suddenly around him as if he was afraid Yuuri would drop him. It made Yuuri chuckle a little.

He crossed the threshold, kicking the door closed after them.

"Okay, you can let me down now," Victor mumbled into his neck and Yuuri grinned to himself.

"Not yet," he said. Victor's whine at that was priceless.

Yuuri took them over to the bed – his, because the other always stood empty and unused. He was about to set Victor gently down on the covers, but he tripped over the leg of the bed and they both fell. Victor bounced off the bed with a small noise of surprise just as Yuuri toppled on him, landing face first in Victor's chest.

His nose hurt and he rubbed at it when he pulled back.

"Are you alright?" Victor asked, concern real and perfect and Yuuri couldn't help but laugh. He felt so light.

"I'm fine," he said. "I had a soft landing."

It was Victor's turn to huff in laughter. "My chest isn't that soft."

Yuuri smiled apologetically, but Victor didn't seem to care. He reached out to Yuuri's face instead to look closer at his nose. Deeming it okay enough, he shifted his hands to caress Yuuri's cheeks.

"I haven't seen you this reckless since the banquet last year," Victor said with soft fondness colouring his voice. "But back then you were drunk, so it'd explain things."

Yuuri hummed, taking one of Victor's hands in his and twining their fingers.

"I think I might be a little drunk now, too."

And then he was leaning in and kissing Victor slowly, a blush of lips so light it seemed like a dream, a velvety paradise of soft affection and belonging, melting them into one being, complete and perfect.

_Drunk on love._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //sobs  
> pls let them marry and be happy


	9. you smell like home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor loves sneaking out early in the mornings, and he loves coming back to sleepy Yuuri even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're going back to ep10 when everything was right in the world AND VICTOR WAS WEARING YUURI'S COAT BYE

A little cold from the early morning air, Victor slipped into their shared room. Yuuri was still tangled in the sheets, his face now pressed into the spot that Victor had vacated, as if he was chasing after his warmth even in his dreams. It made Victor smile, because it was in small moments like this that he was completely convinced that what he felt wasn't just one-sided, that Yuuri felt it too.

He brushed a tender hand through dark locks, petting Yuuri slowly while he sat perched on the edge of the bed, just watching him and feeling overwhelming fondness melt his face into sappy smiles and teary eyes. When he leaned in to press a soft kiss to Yuuri's forehead, the sleeping beauty stirred and warm brown blearily blinked up at him.

"Good morning," Victor said, his voice trembling a little from the happiness his chest was bursting with.

"Good morning," Yuuri replied and hid a yawn in the juncture of his elbow. "What time is it?"

"A little after six."

Yuuri groaned. "Why on earth are you awake at this hour? And why _am I_ awake too?"

Victor chuckled lightly.

"I was just out by the sea," he said. "I even found a spot that reminds me of Hasetsu. Want to see it later?"

"Sure," Yuuri smiled warmly at him. And then he yawned. "You should come sleep some more. There won't be much time to nap today."

"Ah, you're right," Victor smiled back. It was the big day after all. "I have to be able to watch over you properly."

He stood up and shrugged the jacket off his shoulders when–

"Wait, is that my coat?" Yuuri asked, blinking owlishly at the dark blue fabric.

Victor froze for just a second before he smiled sheepishly at Yuuri who was now sitting up and watching him with growing interest.

"Sorry for taking it without permission," he quickly apologized.

Yuuri shook his head. "It's fine, really, not a problem. But wasn't it too small?"

"A little," Victor smiled, relieved he wasn't mad. "But I liked wearing it. It smells like you."

Only when he caught the blush on Yuuri's face did he realize what he said and his own cheeks tinted pink. He coughed in embarrassment, and folded the jacket on his unused bed, before getting back to Yuuri who readily took his hand and pulled him under the sheets.

"You know," Yuuri started as they lied face to face, close and warm and flushed. "You can wear my clothes whenever you want. Just don't stretch them out."

Victor laughed quietly, snuggling closer, right into Yuuri's open arms. Yuuri's chin rested on Victor's head and it was nice and welcome, and he felt so safe, tucked into the embrace of the man he loved with his whole heart, that he couldn't help but sigh in bliss.

"You smell of the sea," Yuuri mumbled into his hair, his voice getting heavy with sleep again.

"And you smell like home," Victor replied quietly into Yuuri's neck, but Yuuri was already drifting off.

So Victor kissed his collarbone lightly and allowed himself to slip into sleep as well: happy and warm, and full of wonderful dreams that were as bright as the future they had together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you don't know yet, yes I do have a kare shirt kink hello ;3c


	10. claim mark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri isn't innocent at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cough*  
> if you are iffy around semi-smutty stuff this is your clue to skip this chapter tho there's no real smut happening here  
> *cough*

If Victor ever told anyone that Yuuri was actually a wolf in sheep’s clothing, not many people would believe him. Those who attended last year’s GPF banquet would definitely have no trouble imagining it, but others… Victor was pretty certain that Yuuri’s usually demure and easy-going personality could fool them.

The truth, however, was that Yuuri was the farthest thing from meek Victor has ever seen.

So when he landed on their bed on his back, with Yuuri licking his lips and straddling his hips, his eyes glazed over and mouth parted on a breath of delightful surprise. Yuuri looked stunning. His hair was brushed back and his glasses were gone, discarded somewhere on one of the drawers. His forehead was bare and when he cocked his head to the side and smiled down at Victor his bangs slid over it, creating a perfect contrast on his pale skin and–

It was all too much.

“Yuuri,” Victor started, feeling the heat brush his cheeks and the back of his nape, urgent and strong. “Maybe we should slow down…”

“Are you uncomfortable?” Yuuri asked, pausing for a moment with his fingers halfway to unzipping his jacket.

Uncomfortable? Of course he was. Uncomfortable in his _way too tight_ _pants_.

But looking into Yuuri’s gleaming eyes Victor wasn’t able to say it out loud.

“No, no, that’s not what I– “

“Wait, are you concerned for _me_?” There was slight surprise in Yuuri’s voice to which Victor could only nod. “That’s so sweet of you, Victor. Thank you.”

A smile he was given was soft and warm, and Victor’s tenderly trembling heart combusted. He reached up and pulled Yuuri closer, crushing their lips together. He’s had many lovers in the past, playthings to kill the time, none of whom could ever make him feel the way Yuuri’s single smile could. So happy, so full, so hungry for more... His smile, his eyes, his words, his movements and gestures, everything he did set Victor’s soul on fire.

And he wanted to burn.

Yuuri’s jacket fluttered to the floor. It broke the spell Victor’s been under and with difficulty he forced himself to break away, heavily flushed and panting. He couldn’t pull back fully. The magnetic force that kept him coming back for more was there again, and he stilled with lips against lips, shared breaths and heart beating out of his chest.

“Yuuri,” he half-moaned. “Yuuri, wait.”

“What?”

Yuuri’s hands were already under Victor’s shirt, distractingly warm and heavenly on the skin of his abdomen. Victor’s thoughts were a mess, his body was a mess, but the way Yuuri’s quickened breath fanned his cheek made the mess delightful and welcome.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Victor asked, praying silently for Yuuri to come to his senses and stop now before Victor dies in his arms, before he makes a fool of himself because of how much he actually wants him.

“Do you want to?” Yuuri asked, gazing deep into his eyes.

“Yes, I do, _God, I do_ ,” Victor whispered, breathless. “But do you? Are you okay with this?”

_With me?_

He didn’t say the last one out loud, but Yuuri’s face softened as if he knew. His eyes looked into Victor's with gentle affection. One of the hands pulled out from under Victor’s shirt and settled on the side of his neck only for Yuuri's thumb to caress the line of Victor’s jaw in a gesture so intimate and loving, Victor’s throat tightened dangerously.

“I wasn’t more sure of anything in my life,” Yuuri said with conviction, his cheeks slightly reddened and voice a bit wavering from emotion, and Victor’s world burst into light so warm he could swear their love was singed into his skin like a claim mark.

He caressed it and loved it, made it grow and consume him, and worshiped the man who put it there until for the rest of the night, and his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you know I've been inching this way for a while now but I kinda feel like yuuri's gonna top the first time they do the do, like??? I feel like victor will let him do whatever he'd comfortable with and if it means taking it up the ass he'll be more than happy to oblige   
> GIVE ME MORE BOTTOM VICTOR FANDOM PLS //RAISES HANDS TO THE SKY


	11. love the mocha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor loves mocha and Yuuri loves...

The incense was burning around the small altar with a framed black-and-white picture. Yuuri was looking at it with so much fond sadness that Victor couldn't help but give him a one-armed hug in silent support. Yuuri smiled up at him in thanks and then laughed quietly when Makkachin put his head in his lap as if wanting to comfort him too.

"He looked so much like Makkachin," Victor commented lightly, looking at the photo again.

"He did, didn't he?" Yuuri was smiling. "And he was such a good boy, too."

"What was his name? I think you told me before, but it must have slipped my mind."

Yuuri's ears tinted pink and he mumbled something Victor didn't exactly catch.

"What was that?"

"Vicchan," Yuuri mumbled, avoiding Victor's gaze. "His name was Vicchan."

Something clicked in Victor's mind. "Isn't that what your mother calls me?"

" _Oh my god_." Yuuri hid his face in his hands, making Victor even more confused than he already was.

"Did I get it wrong?" he asked, but Yuuri only shook his head violently without looking at him at all. To be perfectly honest, Victor was ready to pout. "What is it then, Yuuri? Come on, tell me, I'm your coach! I need to know!"

"Fine," Yuuri groaned. "It's the same as what my mom calls you."

"Why?"

Yuuri groaned again, but this time he didn't hide, so Victor could see how his cheeks covered in a deep, red blush. And somehow it clicked.

"Did you name your dog after me, Yuuri?" Victor asked with a grin, oddly touched.

Rubbing at the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed, Yuuri admitted: "I did."

"Why?" Victor prodded further, suddenly excited for no reason other than _Yuuri_ naming his _beloved_ dog _after him_.

"Victor, please," Yuuri whined, but Victor wouldn't let it go. Not when he had his eyes on the prize.

"Why, Yuuri, why?"

Finally, Yuuri sighed.

"Why did you name Makkachin Makkachin?" he asked back.

"Because I love mocha!" Victor replied immediately. "In Italian it's also called mocaccino, I believe, and Makkachin's fur is just the perfect shade, don't you think?"

Yuuri smiled a little at that and nodded. "There you have it."

Victor frowned, confused. And then his eyes lit up when he understood what Yuuri was trying to say. He named his dog Vicchan because just like Victor loved mocha, Yuuri loved–

"Oh, Yuuri!"

Victor hugged him tight, ignoring the strangled, embarrassed protests from the man in his arms.

It was far too cute, _Yuuri_ was far too cute, and Victor wasn't going to let him escape. Nope, nope, nope!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aren't they the sweetest dorks ever //melts


	12. just to stay close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's only one thing Victor can do to give Yuuri back for changing his life.

Yuuri's face was different.

Victor had seen countless of his Eros performances and they all varied in the levels of fluidity and confidence that Yuuri exuded, but this one was strange. Yuuri seemed to be relaxed, seemed to be in good condition and mindset, but... Something just wasn't right. It wasn't clicking how it was supposed to, how Victor knew Yuuri could shine.

His first clue was right at the start: Yuuri didn't blow him a kiss. He didn't smirk at him. He didn't lick his lips, or do anything else that would even remotely remind Victor of his previous routines.

In fact, Yuuri looked a little pained.

But his eyes were bright and shining, so determined just bare seconds before the music started... What could have possibly changed? What could've happened to put a grimace like that on the lips that were supposed to be playfully seductive?

And yet, Yuuri's was a pro. His body moved in a polished way, each step as if ingrained into the very core of his being, as natural as breathing. It looked good, for an untrained eye. But Victor saw it for what it really was – chaos.

Technical elements were there. Yuuri performed almost perfectly on that account.

But his feelings just weren't in it.

The gold of Yuuri's ring gleamed straight into Victor's eye during one of the jumps and he suddenly realized why.

Yuuri was thinking.

He wasn't focusing on his Eros, he was calculating his jumps. He was doing exactly the thing the ring was supposed to prevent. Somewhere deep in his chest Victor felt a stab of pain, a bitter slash of hurt and disappointment, but he kept on watching. Yuuri's performance, even if it lacked in its seductive appeal, was still enthralling and he couldn't turn his eyes away.

Victor's hands clenched into fists when Yuuri nailed his combination jump. Yes, good, that was it. Even if he couldn't take the spotlight with his short program, if he didn't do too badly, Yuuri could still turn it around with his free skating. And Victor was confident Yuuri could do it. With skating like that? Yuuri could reach for the gold, there was no doubt in Victor's mind, or his heart.

For the first time anxious about the outcome and equally as excited, he watched Yuuri's blades slash across the ice as he entered the quad flip. Before he knew it, he himself was jumping in place as if his body wanted to help Yuuri make it, as if he could somehow influence the outcome.

And maybe he did, who could tell, Yuuri landed with a few fingers on the ice. So close...

But it was good. It was good. _It was good_ –

–except Yuuri didn't think so.

Victor watched him fall to his knees on the cold ice when the music stopped, watched Yuuri's trembling form as he curled on himself in a rare, public show of weakness. Victor's heart clenched and mouth set, Victor felt like he should reach out to him. He should, but Yuuri was in his own world now and it was a little hard to break through the dullness of Yuuri's eyes, because there were no words Victor could offer to make the bitter feeling of _not having done enough_ go away.

What could he give Yuuri now?

What could he give him to repay him for all the emotions he instilled in Victor's heart?

What could he give to the man that put colour in his world and made him see the light for the first time in years...?

Victor put one arm around Yuuri's shoulders, silent and comforting, a whispered _I'm here if you need me_ that was lost in the cheer of the crowd as the score showed up on the screen. There was only one thing Yuuri wanted from him and Victor was ready to give it – himself.

Freely, wholly.

Just to stay close to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //casually stresses about the last ep tomorrow


	13. I promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are other ways to shatter Yuuri's heart. Victor crying is definitely one of them.

Ah, _fuck_. I fucked up, Yuuri thought.

Victor's blue eyes were filled with tears and his lips trembled, a picture so devastating Yuuri could feel his heart tear into pieces. And when the first one slipped onto a pale cheek, soon followed by others, like dew running down a leaf early in the morning, Yuuri wanted to take it all back. Take it back, stuff it down his throat and choke on it, because no words were worth seeing Victor cry.

Yuuri watched how Victor swallowed, trying so hard to blink the tears away, but they just kept coming.

"Is it because of something I did?" Victor asked, his head bowed like he was scared of looking at Yuuri. "Did I do something wrong? I know I'm still inexperienced as a coach, even after all this time, and I swear I can work on that! So if it is, you need to tell me so we can get through this and figure out how to–"

"That's not it," Yuuri interrupted before Victor could spiral further.

All he wanted to do was to gather him in his arms and hold him, and kiss his cheeks and say _I'm sorry_ as many times as needed to stop the tears and make Victor smile again.

 But he couldn't do it now. He had to say this, he had to let it out.

"Victor," he called to make Victor look at him and Victor _flinched._ Yuuri's heart almost shattered. "Victor, please, look at me."

It would've been easier if he didn't. Yuuri felt the guilt and the pain nestle in his chest like a small monster, just waiting to grow and lash back at him for what he'd done to the man he loved with his whole being.

"You may be inexperienced as a coach, but I don't think that is necessarily a bad thing," he gave a tiny smile, hoping to ease the broken expression on Victor's face. It didn't really work. Yuuri sighed. "But I also know my limits and I know I just hit them."

Now Victor's mouth was opening to protest, and somewhere deep inside it made Yuuri happy that he was still fighting for him, still believed in him, but he shook his head to stop him from saying anything. It wouldn't change a thing.

"Don't try to convince me," Yuuri said. "I'm going to retire after this season, Victor."

Victor's mouth set. His bottom lip trembled, but he bit on it to stop it. Yuuri itched to reach out and brush his thumb across it to free it, but he didn't.

"You could still reach higher," Victor finally said, his voice petulant like a child that was just scolded.

Yuuri smiled agreeably. "Maybe."

"Then why–"

"It's painful," he cut Victor off, looking away from him. "Competing has always been stressful to me. It's not a burden I want to carry anymore."

With that he reached out and took Victor's hand, the very one upon which a gold ring gleamed in the dim light of their hotel room lamp. He locked their fingers together, gold touching gold, and squeezed as if trying to tell Victor what he couldn't put into words.

And Victor understood.

Tears stopped and his face cleared a little, although it remained grim and unhappy.

"You won't change your mind?" he asked one final time.

Yuuri shook his head, "No."

The hand in his shook slightly when Victor took a deep breath, but when he spoke his voice was strong.

"Fine," he said. "We'll make the announcement after the gala."

Yuuri nodded.

That night after they slipped into bed, Yuuri could still feel the invisible line, the tension, between them. It was something that wasn't there before, not even when they were complete strangers. He chewed on it alone, curling in on himself and wondering if it was alright to reach out...

Victor beat him to it.

Forehead pressed to Yuuri's back and arms tight around his waist, he held him close, desperately.

"Don't leave me," Victor whispered.

Throat suddenly clogged up, Yuuri took Victor's hand and kissed the ring that bound them to each other.

"Never," he replied. "I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //STRESSING I NTEN SIF I ES


	14. tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is done being a patient, understanding coach, and it's exactly what Yuuri wanted.

His feelings were a mess. Yuuri knew perfectly well that skating in such a state of emotional chaos would never mean anything good, especially after his less than satisfactory display the day before. But he was already on the ice, blades firmly set, what could he do now to stop it?

He took a deep breath. Victor's hand was warm in his cold one, almost burning his skin. Even without gloves Victor's hands were hot and Yuuri marvelled at that. He didn't want to let go. Because letting go meant he had to go out there, to the middle of the rink to face the last skate of his career. He didn't want to go. So he held on as if Victor's hand was the only rope keeping him adrift, and maybe it was, maybe _Victor_ was the only thing keeping him from drowning...

"Yuuri, listen to me," Victor said.

Yuuri did, even if he was too scared to lift his head to look at him. Victor's soft hair brushed his bare forehead like a lover's caress when he leaned his head in, a stark contrast to the words that left Victor's mouth not long after.

"I was torn whether I should tell you this now, but..."

It sounded important, it sounded jarring, it sounded like–

Yuuri pulled his head up on instinct.

"After five consecutive wins I took a break to coach you, so how is it possible you didn't win even a single gold medal yet?"

It sounded like a complaint.

It sounded like Victor was angry at him. It sounded like... so much like Yuuri's own feelings.

But Victor's face was light, he wasn't assigning blame, he wasn't jabbing at him. He was _motivating_ him. Like any proper coach would. About damn time, Yuuri wanted to say, but couldn't.

Somewhat with renewed admiration, Yuuri watched Victor through widened eyes.

"How much longer are you going to warm up?" Victor asked with a small playful smile.

He pulled Yuuri into a hug, and Yuuri realized his chest wasn't as tight as before. His emotions have settled, subdued by the one overbearing feeling that made his whole being suddenly chime in tune – _Victor_.

Because Victor wasn't only the person before him. Victor was a feeling that started somewhere around his navel and climbed up towards his heart, a feeling that choked him with anxiety and tears, a feeling that was far more constricting and yet somehow freeing and warm, more than any others Yuuri had ever felt.

"I really want to kiss the gold medal," Victor sighed into his ear, and Yuuri's back stiffened when a shiver of inspiration shot down his spine.

He really wanted to give Victor the gold medal to kiss.

With a dry sob, half cry, half laughter, he pulled Victor closer. He wanted to give it to him. Like nothing else, he wanted to give it to Victor. He deserved it. After everything they've been through, this was the only thing Yuuri could say his thanks with.

Yuuri's shoulders shook as he tried to compose himself.

He'll do it.

He'll skate perfectly for one last time.

To give Victor the thing he wanted the most to give.

The gold medal, one of his own, the one and only they'd win together.

And if he failed...

Yuuri's eyes met Victor's across the rink, and even though he couldn't see much, he could see the smile on his face.

If he failed, there was always tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SCREAMING SO MUCH HOLY SHEET THIS EP WAS THE FUCKING BEST //SOBS  
> I'm probably gonna drabble the whole thing bc there's just too much love and I can't hold back ahhh


	15. comeback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally when Victor has become a semi-decent coach Yuuri wants to give up. LIfe's just not fair.

Ever since the night of the short program, things have been tense between them. Victor could feel it in the air they breathed, in the space left here and there when previously there was none, in the lack of contact, skinship, adoration; and it didn't settle well with him. But he couldn't do anything about it, either. In fact, he was close to sitting his ass down and pouting like a child.

How could Yuuri just make a decision about something like _retirement_ without even talking it through with him? He was his coach, wasn't he? Or was it Japanese practice to just not involve the coach in something the most important decisions and then let him figure out what to do with his now broken life?

Victor wanted to sulk for the rest of the day, but...

If only for a day more, he was Yuuri's coach.

So when Yuuri's shoulders slumped, it was his job to ease his worries. And for the first time since he started coaching, Victor knew he did so perfectly. What a waste, just when he finally got a grip on what to do and what to say to make him relax and believe in himself, Yuuri wanted to end it.

With a final sigh, Victor watched Yuuri skate to the centre of the rink and take his position.

This program, it'll be the last one.

_Make it count, Yuuri_ , Victor prayed.

And Yuuri did, _oh god, he did_.

Yuuri's jumps were perfect, his body moved flawlessly, so elegant, so effortless, so enthralling. The changes he made always made Victor a little nervous, but somehow right then the nerves were gone. It was almost as if he trusted Yuuri to make the call and nail it – and nail it, he did.

Jump after jump, he shone even brighter, and Victor couldn't look away. Even if he could have, he wouldn't, not now. This was the culmination of Yuuri's essence as a skater and whatever may come, Victor was going to see it through till the very end.

Heart swelling in his chest from pride, with wide, sparkling eyes and excitement like a child's, Victor looked at the man who'd changed so much over the course of only a year. From the shy, anxious boy, Yuuri seemed to have grown into a confident man who knew what he wanted. And this Yuuri, the one who finally landed a perfect quad flip in homage to no one else but Victor himself, _this Yuuri wanted gold_.

Victor didn't even know when the tears came, but through his blurry vision he watched Yuuri's final spin until he froze, arm straight and hand reaching out to him. And then Yuuri was crying too, and Victor wanted nothing more than to hug him and kiss him and tell him how absolutely amazing he was, but the single thought stopped him.

It was Yuuri's last program.

He just skated his life out and that was it.

Victor pushed away the bitterness, putting on a smile for Yuuri's sake. When the scores went up, he couldn't stop it anymore though. First Yurio, now his Yuuri. It stung to see his name being erased from the records, and somehow Victor understood what Yuuri was trying to tell him the night before.

_He didn't want to disappear._

So when he pulled Yuuri into a hug, congratulating him on erasing his mark from history and making a new one for them both, he couldn't help a small bitter smile. He hid it in Yuuri's shoulder and focused on what was more important – Yuuri himself.

And what Yuuri wanted most now was...

"Congratulations, Yuuri," Victor said. "Having both of you beat my records is the ultimate bliss I could've asked for as a choreographer and a coach. But it's also the ultimate diss as a competitor."

He knew immediately that Yuuri caught onto his allusion, because he pulled back and with wide eyes stared at Victor as if he proposed to him all over again. On the verge of a smile, bright-eyed and breathless with expectation, Yuuri asked:

"Does that mean you'll come back?"

Victor only smiled at him mysteriously.

He will come back, but for now he was still Yuuri's coach. And he wasn't done coaching yet. There was just one more thing he needed to teach him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told ya I'm gonna drabble the whole ep NO REGRETS
> 
> ps. a small quizz for yall: whoever guesses what vitya wants to teach yuuri before he gives up coaching will get a small drabble of their choosing ;3c


	16. for a while longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri decides to keep on skating. Just for a while longer.

"Victor?"

Yuuri looked around, searching for the characteristic silver head amongst many others, but Victor was nowhere in sight. It was nothing urgent, Yuuri just wanted to watch Yurio's free program together, but he was so used to Victor being right there by his side day and night that to find him suddenly _not there_ was a little unsettling.

Where could he have gone?

Yuuri's eyes fell on the Makkachin plush tissue box sitting on a nearby chair and he realized that Victor probably went to see Yakov. If he wanted to return to skating, he should let him know he was coming back home to start training as soon as possible.

Home, huh?

Yuuri smiled a little to himself, a tiny crack of a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Of course Victor was going home, Yuuri was stupid for ever thinking otherwise. And it's not like he _ever really thought_ he wouldn't. It's just that even if he knew from the start that Victor wasn't with him to stay, there was this feeling in his chest... almost like hope, or maybe it was simply his naiveté. Their arrangement was only temporary. Yuuri _knew_ that. And yet his heart was heavy at the idea of only seeing Victor during competitions.

He sighed. He shouldn't have gotten so attached. He shouldn't have fallen so hard...

Yurio's performance was already starting when Yuuri got to the gallery. He was hoping to find Victor there, but the music was filling the air and he couldn't look away from Yurio's graceful silhouette.

It was captivating.

Since their competition back in Hasetsu Yurio has changed so much. And he just kept on improving, performance after performance, fearlessly. Yuuri couldn't help but watch in awe how Yurio made an elegant jump with his hand raised effortlessly in the air for additional points. Back then, before the competition, Yurio got swamped by technical elements. He lacked the strength to pull them off while channelling emotions strong enough to captivate the audience. But now...

Yuuri could feel him drawing everyone in. His own legs wanted to move as he watched Yurio skate so passionately. He wanted to be there on the ice, wanted to try that triple axel right from the spiral. It looked majestic and ridiculously easy when Yurio had done it, but Yuuri knew it was a difficult entry. And Yurio even lifted his hand to earn extra points again! He was amazing.

Yuuri found himself wanting to see if he could maybe–

Yurio slipped on his quad toe loop and fell, which made Yuuri gasp, clutching onto the railing before him. But Yurio picked himself up quickly, unfazed, almost like nothing had happened. This was one of Yurio's strengths, too. He never let his mistakes get to him, unlike Yuuri himself – he was mentally fit to compete.

But... now that Yuuri thought about it... when was the last time he fell apart after botching a jump...?

Yurio spun in the rink, masterful in captivating everyone's hearts in the palms of his small hands, graceful as he crushed the ice underneath his blades, and most of all, relentless in his pursuit of perfection, in his craving to win.

Two combination jumps with two quads so late in the program made Yuuri's heart hammer in his chest. He put his own jumps in the second half because he had the stamina to pull it off, but it seemed like Yurio was throwing a glove of challenge right into his face with difficult combination after another. And Yuuri... for some completely incomprehensible reason, he wanted to pick it up and face him.

Yurio was really amazing.

With widened in admiration eyes Yuuri watched him take the final position. Yurio was breathing hard, his whole body shook with the effort, but when the tears came it felt a little... A little like Yuuri was watching himself, himself from a different world where he wasn't as anxious about messing up, where he had the confidence to make it, even if he messed up a jump or two.

In this small boy, kneeling on the hard ice and crying tears of relief, Yuuri saw what he could've been. If only–

From the gallery he noticed the silver head down in the competitors' area. Victor was clapping joyfully with a smile, obviously happy for Yurio. And Yuuri smiled, too.

Maybe... just maybe... he could still be like that.

If Victor was there to guide him, maybe he could try for a while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so remember that small quizz from yesterday? this drabble is exactly what victor wanted to teach yuuri - the fact that yuuri himself really didn't want to quit just yet ;3c and yurio helped him realize that (I'm also pretty sure there might have been some whispered words during that victor/yurio hug, like 'show him what he'll miss if he quits now' uwu)  
> and since Ami_Kuro_Kagami was closest to guessing that with 'listen to your heart yuuri', I'm naming you the winner of this little game! drop me a word here in the comment or on my tumblr @kuroohina of what you want your drabble to be about ^u^)b
> 
> hope you enjoyed this small piece of no ship writing guys~


	17. your peacock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung Gil is feeling down and who better to lighten up the mood than JJ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for [@talk-to-the-fish](http://talk-to-the-fish.tumblr.com/) who shipped these two before we even knew jj was engaged, and whose bday it actually is today, so here's to u bruh HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND MERRY CHRISTMAS U LOVELY NERD~~ //sends smooches

The music was coming from the hallway. It was loud and obnoxious and, really, Seung Gil was one angry breath away from throwing open his door and _screaming_.

So he did.

He almost pulled the door off its hinges, but just as he was opening his mouth to deliver a litany of very scathing comments to whoever was bothering him for the last half an hour, he froze. The lyrics only now registered in his mind and... Seung Gil's brain short-circuited.

 

_I wanna see your peacock, cock, cock_

_your peacock, cock_

 

"What the fuck," Seung Gil whispered to himself, but it was too late to close the door and pretend he never stuck his head out of his room.

"Seung Gil, my man!"

The happy voice made him cringe internally. Outwardly as well.

The annoying Canadian skater, JJ, pushed off the wall right next to Seung Gil's door and greeted him with a smile way too wide and far too happy. Seung Gil wanted to slam the door in his face.

"Why are you playing this," _crap_ , "here? Go somewhere else, I do not wish to be disturbed right now."

"Aw, come on, don't be like that."

Honestly? Seung Gil hated this guy. Not really hated per se, but he hated being around him and being involved in all the dumb shit that always followed him.

"You like the song though, right?"

Seung Gil looked at him with slight incredulity pulling up his eyebrows. What on earth would ever give him the idea that he _liked the song_? Surely not the grimace of disgust curled around his lips...

 

_I wanna see your peacock, cock, cock_

_your peacock, cock_

 

"Why peacock?" he found himself asking instead, and regretting it seconds later when JJ's face lit up. "You know what, nevermin–"

"Your short program costume," JJ ignored him anyway. "It was a peacock, right?"

Seung Gil stared. JJ grinned. _What the fuck_.

"No, it wasn't."

It was almost comically hilarious how JJ's face morphed into shock and from then to embarrassment and right back into obnoxious glee. Seung Gil had to admit, he was a little scared. But at the same time it was... sickeningly fascinating.

"Oh, so it was a parrot then!" JJ exclaimed, pulling out his phone, where the music was coming from, and scrolling through it with passion. "Give me a moment, I'll switch to the parrot playlist. I wasn't sure which one it was so I made two–"

Seung Gil wasn't listening anymore. The parrot playlist. The _fucking_ parrot playlist. Who was this guy even...

When the music started again, Seung Gil had to admit he was a little floored.

 

_All the birds of a feather_

_Do what they love most of all_

_We are the best at rhythm and laughter_

_That's why we love carnival_

 

It definitely wasn't what he expected, but somehow the sheer absurdity of the situation got to him and for the first time since he botched his chances at GPF, Seung Gil smiled. It was a small crack of a grin with a tiny chuckle to accompany it, which he thought would be lost in the loud music, _but JJ, god damn him, heard it_.

"Now that's what we're talking about," JJ praised, grinning widely for the both of them and patting Seung Gil's shoulder.

With a sigh, Seung Gil pushed his door open further and allowed JJ to slip into his room. He knew he was going to regret it later, but... at the moment it was alright.

When JJ tripped over the strap of Seung Gil's practice bag, he bit his lip to stop it from twitching.

Yes, he could use some laughter. Even if it was at JJ's expense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jj deserves more love, give the child a chance guys pls


	18. life worth living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor doesn't really like being reminded of his age, but if it's Yuuri it's a little different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VICTOR'S BDAY SHOULD BE A NATIONAL HOLIDAY YES OR YES

"Yuuri, come on," Victor whined. "The competition is over and it's my birthday, you can't say no. Drink with me!"

"You know why I don't drink," Yuuri pointed out, a little embarrassed tint of pink across his cheeks.

"But it's just us here," Victor insisted. "I promise I'll stop you if you get too wild."

Yuuri still didn't look convinced, so Victor pouted: his best pleading face, with wide eyes and puckered lips, and _yes, that always worked_. Yuuri sighed and took the glass from Victor's hand. Victor's smile was blinding.

It was far less blinding three hours and two bottles of champagne later.

Some movie was playing on TV and they were watching it mindlessly during the breaks in conversation, slowly sipping on their glasses and talking about everything and nothing, from Victor's hair to Yuuri's last skating to how happy they were for Yurio, who couldn't stop bragging about his gold medal. They laughed and drank, and then drank some more. It was honestly one of Victor's best birthdays, he had to admit. Hearing Yuuri's brilliant laughter put him in a giddy mood, light and careless. Or maybe that was the alcohol, or the combination of both, who knew.

The couple on the screen was kissing in the rain and Victor sighed dreamily. Wasn't that just perfect? Maybe he could convince Yuuri to go out and kiss under some fountain or something...

He stole a glance at Yuuri, but the seat he previously occupied was empty. Victor blinked.

"Yuuri?"

A hand came from behind him, gliding down his chest while Yuuri leaned over the back of Victor's chair to kiss his temple.

"What?" he asked.

Victor grinned like a silly goose. "Nothing, I just like saying your name."

Yuuri snorted next to his ear, a soft and dorky sound that filled Victor's chest with warm mush. He let his hand find Yuuri's and when Yuuri circled his chair to sit in his lap, their hands remained joined, matching gold gleaming on their fingers. Seeing their rings always made Victor feel overwhelmingly happy and it did again this time. He brought Yuuri's hand to his lips and kissed the band like he'd done so many times before.

Yuuri awarded him with a tender smile as he brushed Victor's fringe out of his face.

"You're an old man now, Victor," he said and Victor's happiness died a little.

"Yu–"

Yuuri pressed a finger to his lips, hushing him efficiently. Victor only half-glared at him, pouting.

"I like seeing you get older," Yuuri continued, while he stroked the corner of Victor's mouth with his thumb. "Being here to see you age. Being with you as we both age."

He leaned down to press their foreheads together.

"I like it," Yuuri repeated softly and Victor's heart melted.

He wanted to say something back, anything, really, because the feeling was more than mutual, but Yuuri didn't seem to want it at the moment. His lips pressed against Victor's, sealing the unspoken words deep in his throat. Not that Victor cared. His head was full of only Yuuri, Yuuri and his lips.

Victor's arm sneaked around Yuuri's waist to pull him closer until he was almost lying on his chest. The kiss was gentle and slow, almost lazy with how Yuuri led it and Victor's heart swell in bliss. He could've  spend the whole night like that, just holding the man he loved and stealing breath from his lungs with languid swipes of his tongue, but Yuuri had other plans.

He broke the kiss, without pulling away, and inched his way down. He nosed at the skin of Victor's cheek, softly brushing his lips over the flushed skin. With his thumb he pushed Victor's chin up to make more space and Victor obeyed, tilting his head upwards like a puppy starved for attention.

Yuuri's tongue was fire-heated gold on the line of his jaw, hot and melting everything in its way. Victor's breath quickened as he clutched onto Yuuri, almost as if to tell him _don't you dare stop now_. Yuuri's lips moved down his neck tantalizingly slow. Victor had to bite his lip to hold in a moan that was surely going to spill when Yuuri pressed open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive side of his neck.

And when teeth bit tenderly into his flesh, dragging over the skin, Victor _burned_.

"Yuuri," the moan came out as a plea.

Yuuri pressed a final kiss to the juncture of Victor's shoulder before he pulled up to look at him. His cheeks were flushed with more than alcohol and Victor pressed a hand to one of them. Eyes glazed, he watched as Yuuri nuzzled into it. He pressed Victor's hand more firmly against his face and then kissed his wrist in a gesture so full of love Victor could hardly breathe.

The blood buzzed in his ears like a hive of bees.

"Bed?" Victor managed to rasp out.

"Yeah," Yuuri agreed.

When they finally hit the sheets and Yuuri's body pressed against his, Victor couldn't help but close his eyes for a moment and thank God for this man who changed his life into one of bliss and excitement. For Yuuri, who changed his life into one worth living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //sobs why are they so beautiful


	19. one more time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri sneaks out the night before GPF free skate and Victor being Victor... he panics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this one is a bit longer bc once I started writing I just couldn't hold back??? if I developed more of this (like I should've tbh but shhh) I'd probably have to post this as a different fic lol rip me  
> but this is a small thing for Ami_Kuro_Kagami, idk if you'll like it but I tried? //sweats

The heavy feeling settled around Yuuri's heart like a wet blanket, cold and oppressive. It's been circling around his veins ever since earlier that day, from the moment of his short program, actually, but Yuuri has been doing his best to ignore it. He pushed through the waves of uncertainty, fought against the current that was mercilessly taking him towards dark waters. Victor's tears seemed to be the last straw and Yuuri buckled under the pressure, letting the stream of guilt overflow the already strained well on his emotions.

So he left.

Left the dark room where Victor was sleeping in his own bed, for once, hugging the pillow instead of Yuuri, dried tears staining his face. Left his things, the competitor's ID, his phone, even the golden ring, which got stuck around his knuckle as if it didn't want to be separated from him. He left it all behind and closed the door behind himself as quietly as possible, sneaking off into the night.

Yuuri knew he should be sleeping, no matter how muddled with thoughts his head was. Tomorrow was the most important day in his skating career, his last performance, but he couldn't get his body to relax.

The biting cold of a Russian winter was so different than what he was used to back home. It chilled him to the bone, making him shiver in his plain jacket. The memory of Victor's tears, however, chilled him even more.

 _Ah_ , Yuuri thought, _Victor looked really beautiful_.

There was something perverse in the way seeing Victor cry made Yuuri feel. Of course, there was guilt. He didn't mean to do that, he didn't expect Victor to react that strongly to his plans. But also, there was something ethereal about the blue tear-filled eyes that gazed at him from beneath the blurry veil with far more strength and honesty Yuuri would have expected. It was the first time he saw Victor angry with him. Angry enough to cry.

A sting in his chest made Yuuri stop and take a deep breath of the crispy cold air. He didn't want Victor to be angry with him, ever. He'd spent so many years looking up to him, only to fall from the teenage infatuation into something far deeper and more special: true love for not only his idol, but also the man he was. And to have that very man cry because of him...

Yuuri's heart throbbed.

He pulled up the collar of his jacket, hunching his shoulders for more warmth, but he was cold to the core anyway. In a window display of a bakery he was passing by he saw his reflection – ghastly and shaken, so out of place on this empty street he didn't even recognize himself.

But that wasn't what caught his attention.

It was his hand. His right hand.

It was empty.

There was no gold ring adoring his finger, no remainder that Victor was always with him. For the first time since the GPF last year, Yuuri felt truly alone.

 _Idiot_ , he laughed to himself even if there was no amusement in the sound, _you left it behind of your own will, why are you getting all sad now?_

His legs felt frozen, small needles of the nightly chill prickling across his thighs as he walked. Crossing over a patch of snow, Yuuri slipped on the ice hidden beneath. He tried to catch his balance, but his body was too cold to listen. He sat down hard in the wet snow, yelping at the sudden pain before he hid his face in his hands with a hysterical dry sob. His shoulders shook and he didn't know if he was laughing or crying anymore, hot tears rolling down his cheeks all of a sudden while his ass was freezing off.

How many times did he fall like this in practice when he was younger? How many times did he fail and crashed down hard? How many...?

And yet, he always got up. He never allowed his falls to bring him down. He did his best and he fought, and fought, and fell and got up and fought.

He always–

Yuuri took a deep breath through his parted mouth, the cold air reaching deep into his chest, stinging. He was stronger than this. He got to the GPF all on his own last year. So this year, with Victor at his side, what was he fretting about? With Victor...

Rolling to his feet, Yuuri took off running back to the hotel.

He made him cry. God, he was a horrible person.

Out of breath, with red cheeks and just as red and puffy eyes, Yuuri slipped through the hotel door. Waiting for the elevator would be too long, so he took the stairs, jumping two steps at the time. The lights on their corridor were lit and before he even took the corner he could hear the voices, a little hushed, a little distressed.

Victor was talking to Yakov, his back to Yuuri. Yakov noticed Yuuri first and he nudged Victor, who turned around almost slipping on the red carpet laying on the faux marble floors. The wild fear in his blue eyes struck Yuuri frozen. The expression disappeared from Victor's face faster than Yuuri could respond to it though, and Victor was closing the distance between them as if he was a speed racer, not a figure skater.

His body crashed into Yuuri and Victor hugged him, so tight Yuuri's breath left him on impact.

"Where were you?" Victor asked, his voice alarmingly wet. "I thought you left. God, Yuuri, you scared the crap out of me... You even left your phone and your ring, I thought–"

Victor's voice shook as if he was on the verge of tears and Yuuri's heart shrivelled.

Ah, he fucked up again.

"I'm sorry," he said, hugging Victor back just as tight and bringing up a hand to soothingly run it through Victor's hair. "I needed to clear my head. I didn't think you'd worry."

"Of course I'd worry!" Victor pulled back, offended. Yuuri's hand fell to his side, useless. "After all this time we spent together, after everything, how can you think _I wouldn't_?"

There were tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, Yuuri could see it. He didn't want to make Victor cry again. He already felt bad enough for the first time, and to do it again in such a short span of time...

"I'm really the worst, aren't I?" Yuuri said quietly, smiling self-deprecatingly to himself. He lifted both his hands and brushed his thumbs under Victor's eyes, even if there were no tears there yet. "All I'm doing is making you cry."

"You're horrible," Victor nodded, sniffling. He took Yuuri's wrists and held onto them as if he was afraid Yuuri would leave him again. "But I can forgive you for that."

"Can you?" Yuuri asked, hopeful.

"If you promise me not to run away like that again," Victor said.

"I'll try," Yuuri agreed, trying for a reassuring smile and failing.

Victor sighed. "I guess that's good enough."

When they returned to their room after apologizing to a ticked off Yakov and saying their goodnights, Yuuri still felt the heaviness around his heart. It was there, but it was warmer now, less constricting. He slipped the gold ring back on his finger, finally feeling some peace of mind.

Whatever comes tomorrow, he was ready. If he falls, he falls. He'll get up. He did so before, and he'll do so again.

With arms full of Victor, Yuuri knew he could do it.

One more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHY ARE YALL MAKING ME WRITE CRYING VICTOR LET MY BOI BE HAPPY ;A;


	20. golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So what if Yuuri didn't win gold? They were only just starting.

Yuuri didn't win gold and it was fine. Really. Victor wasn't as shallow as to hold it against him, especially since Yurio's skating truly deserved the praise it got. So when Yuuri presented him with the silver, he was in a good-natured teasing mode – he was happy for both of them, okay, let the man live a little.

"If it's not gold I don't really feel like kissing it," he said, smiling.

Yuuri's face was priceless. It was a bit embarrassed and a bit awkward, and Victor let himself marvel in it for just a second, but no longer.

"Man, I really wanted to kiss your gold medal," he sighed and then took a step forward, closing in on Yuuri who backed away from him on instinct. "Now people will think I'm a failure as a coach. Yuuri, do you have any other suggestions for what I could kiss? Something that would excite me?"

He honestly meant just a kiss. Maybe a kiss on their engagement rings, they were gold after all. And Yuuri's blush was so pretty and visible thanks to his brushed back hair, Victor just could help himself. A flicker of something passed through Yuuri's warm eyes and Victor pounced on it.

"Ah, what did you think just now?" Victor prodded.

"Oh, um... Well..."

It must have been something to make Yuuri stutter like that. Victor could feel the anticipation tingle in his toes already.

But he didn't expect Yuuri to grab him and push him back until they both fell onto the ground. Victor couldn't hide his surprised gasp, but he wasn't complaining. Not at all. Especially since Yuuri was now sitting in his lap, with his arms around him, holding him close, almost desperately.

"Victor," Yuuri said in a voice that demanded he listened. And Victor did, with his whole being. "Please stay with me in competitive skating just one more year!" Yuuri pulled back to look him in the eye and Victor honestly felt like his heart was going to rip out of his chest, it was thumping so hard. "This time I'll win gold for sure!"

Was he saying... Was he saying that he's going to win _even with Victor there_ on the ice, competing against him? Was Yuuri, _his shy, anxious Yuuri_ really saying that?

Victor suddenly felt breathless, but also like crying.

"Great!" His ears were ringing and his vision was swimming, but the happiness was so overwhelming he couldn't stop himself from grinning his face off. "But up it a notch!"

Yuuri watched him, not really understanding what he was getting at. Victor took his time picking up the silver medal that was carelessly dropped to the floor some time ago. 

"Even I am worried about coming back to the rink while being your coach," he said slowly, hanging the medal around Yuuri's neck and letting his fingers linger on the strap. Yuuri's eyes were wide and his cheeks were flushed in a way that made Victor's heart melt from the heat of his love. "So I think you should become a five-time world champion or we just won't be even."

The tears rolled down Yuuri's cheeks suddenly, just like that time in the parking lot in Russia. But this time Victor knew what to do with them, so he pulled Yuuri to himself and held him like that, close and by his side, comforting him even if he was doing nothing except just sitting there and grinning through his own clogged throat.

And Yuuri cried into his collar, light tears that made Victor's heart hum tenderly in his chest in sync with the melody of their happiness.

The area was almost empty when they left, but there was a glow in Yuuri's eyes and Victor couldn't wait for what the future held before them. Because no matter what, he was sure it would be golden.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //swoons bc vitya being romantic is my weakness and I wanna die in this floof
> 
> psst tomorrow is pair skate drabble ;3c


	21. stammi vicino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stay close to me, that's all they both want.

"Ah," Victor sighed, readjusting the small chains on Yuuri's costume with caring fingers. "I'm looking forward to later so much."

"Later?" Yuuri asked, slightly confused. "What's happening later?"

Victor chuckled, a smooth and happy sound that made Yuuri unconsciously lean into him.

"Why, I get to take this costume off of you, of course."

Victor's eyes were twinkling in delight while he gazed down at Yuuri with adoration he didn't even bother to hide. Yuuri's cheeks immediately reddened. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he couldn't help the joint song of expectation and anxiety from spreading through his veins.

"Victor!" he chided, heated in the face. "Not in public!"

Victor only smiled unapologetically, leaning in to press a kiss to Yuuri's temple. The lights around the rink darkened, the clue for Yuuri's entrance.

"Go on," Victor sent him off. "I'll be right behind you."

Heart still beating rapidly, Yuuri took off. Even when he froze in the starting position, waiting for the music to start, he was far from feeling the nostalgic tunes of Stammi Vicino.

Stupid Victor.

The music started and Yuuri moved, his head full of thoughts of Victor. Somehow, by sheer luck, he nailed his jumps. The first one, the second one, the third one... And then Victor was right there.

He glided across the ice with a soft smile, eyes only on Yuuri, and Yuuri's only on him. Yuuri didn't even hear the crowd applaud, the only thing his ears could register was the whoosh of their blades cutting the ice and his own speeding heartbeat. He lifted his hand when Victor came closer, up to his neck, to his face, touching it gently and returning Victor's smile. Victor's own hand settled for just a brief moment on Yuuri's waist, pulling him close.

A kiss as light as a butterfly's touch was pressed to Yuuri's lips before they were forced apart.

Cold hand holding onto his, they skated, smiling at each other like goofs. Yuuri couldn't believe it was actually happening, but the Victor before him was real. He was here, on the same ice as Yuuri, picking him up effortlessly and helping him down onto the ice as if he'd practiced it for years. Safely in Victor's arms, Yuuri felt at home.

He brought up his hand to caress Victor's face, to tell him _I love you_ , even if there were no words spoken between them. And in Victor's blue eyes, tinted purple from the lights, Yuuri could see the answer of the same kind: a tender glow of heart-warming love.

They skated through the song, Yuuri's attention focused like never before. Because whatever doubts he used to have just weren't there anymore. He was skating with Victor, with the man he'd admired for all of his life, with the man he'd come to love, with the man who made his life shine bright like a sparkling diamond. Like a ring of gold gleaming in the bright reflector lights as they glided across the ice in perfect synchrony.

When they stopped, out of breath and smiling, their hands came together on their own as if they were always meant to be. Amongst the falling flowers and camera lights going off in the dark, Yuuri caught sight of Victor's face. It looked so different from how it usually did after performances. It was lighter, the smile free and unforced, while his cheeks were rosy with exertion and his usually perfect composure was broken. Finally, Victor didn't looked like a living legend, but just Victor. Young, and imperfect, and happy.

Yuuri squeezed his hand to get his attention and Victor turned to him, still bright.

"Stay close to me," Yuuri mouthed, muffled by the cheer of the crowd.

His heart almost melted from the love captured in Victor's eyes, and when Victor bent down over his hand to kiss the golden ring he'd put there himself, Yuuri felt his answer deep in his soul: "Forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //MELTS IN THEIR PURE AND BEAUTIFUL LOVE 
> 
> I just revamped my tumblr to reflect everyone's newest obsession so yall should check it out and follow me maybe? [@katzuyas](http://katzuyas.tumblr.com/) lol no pressure tho ^u^)b


	22. ripe for the taking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri moves in with Victor because commuting from Japan is a no-go, obviously.

"I'm so sorry, I'll be there as soon as possible!" Yuuri's voice was slightly breathless on the other end of the line and Victor smiled to himself. He probably was getting ready, running around their apartment to grab all of his scattered things.

Their apartment.

Oh, Victor liked the sound of that.

"Take your time, Yuuri," he said cheerfully. "We'll wait."

He ignored Yurio's grumbling next to him about being cold and stupid pigs.

"You should bring Makkachin with you. He'll be so bored alone at home."

"You hear that, Makkachin?" Yuuri's voice softened and Victor was treated to a lovely imagine of Yuuri smiling down at his dog. "Your master sure loves you a lot. Even when you make me late to practice, you little rascal."

Victor chuckled, he couldn't help it. There was something so endearing in hearing Yuuri talk like that. Victor's heart swooned and he wanted to kiss those precious lips that made Makkachin bark happily through the phone. The laughter that followed brought a goofy grin to Victor's face.

"Okay, okay, we'll be right there in that case," Yuuri said to Victor.

"Be careful on your way," Victor sung and the line disconnected.

It was already a month since Yuuri moved in, but Victor was still living on cloud nine. Yuri's clothes were in his wardrobe, Yuuri's toiletries stood on the small shelves in the bathroom, his toothbrush was right next to Victor's and his shoes stood in the hallway by the front door, opposite of Victor's like they had belonged there from the start.

Victor's sheets smelled of Yuuri, too. When he sometimes woke up in the middle of the night, he could feel the warm body pressed to his and some other times there was a sheen of light coming through a crack in the door to the living room from where Yuuri was quietly talking to Phichit. And it made Victor smile, because it meant Yuuri must have sneaked out quietly, trying his best not to disturb him. So he stayed up until they were done only to gather Yuuri back into his arms and kiss his temple goodnight.

And then when he opened his eyes in the morning Yuuri was still there, not a dream, but a very real boy drooling on one of Victor's pillows and mumbling incoherently to leave him be for just five more minutes. _Ah, Victor couldn't get enough._

"Stop smiling so much, you creepy old fart," Yurio barked at him.

"You're just jealous," Victor replied light-heartedly, still smiling. There was nothing that could ruin his good mood. "Ah, wouldn't it be nice if some Kazakhstani hero finally swooped in and took you–"

Yurio's hands were on his mouth before he could even finish the sentence. It made Victor laugh. Yurio was really cute when he was blushing up to his roots, he should tell Otabek that the next time they see each other.

"Don't you dare," Yurio warned.

He took his hands back and put them in his pockets, leaning back against the blue railing of the bridge. His face was hidden half behind his hair, the rest in his scarf, so Victor couldn't tell what his expression was, but his voice was soft.

"I'm not ready for that yet," he said.

Victor nodded with a gentle smile. "Take your time, you have lots of it."

Yurio didn't say anything to that, but his silence spoke volumes.

They waited for a few more minutes, Victor humming the Stammi Vicino aria under his breath. His performance came to an end when a gleeful bark cut through the air. Yuuri and Makkachin were coming their way, Yuuri's face flushed from the cold and hair a mess. It was such a cute mess, though, that Victor wanted to just put his hands into it and make it _even messier_.

Grinning, he lifted his arm and waved, and when Yuuri stopped before them to catch his breath, Victor jumped on him. He hugged him tight, rubbing his cheek on Yuuri's cold one with true delight.

"Victor," Yuuri complained, even though his voice was hardly upset. "You've seen me just this morning, stop this."

"But I've already missed you, Yuuri!"

There was a smile on Yuuri's face that said "Silly Victor" even without words and Victor couldn't help but kiss the corner of it adoringly.

"Ugh, you guys are so gross," Yurio broke their happy bubble. "Can we go practice now?"

Walking hand in hand with Yuuri and letting Yurio and Makkachin lead the way, Victor finally felt the colours return to the world after a long winter. The streets were bursting with it, bright and full, the world ripe for the taking. But the only thing Victor wanted to take was right next to him – Yuuri's cold hand with a golden band on the ring finger, promising him to Victor.

That was all he needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOMESTIC VICTURI SOMEONE HOLD ME I WILL TEAR ALL MY HAIR OUT OF MY HEAD THEY ARE TOO CUTE //SOBS


	23. unless it's gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor doesn't kiss it unless it's gold. Yuuri swipes the floor with him anyway.

Watching the gold medal, the same one as the other five in Victor's trophy case, being hanged around his fiancé's neck was not actually as bitter a feeling as many supposed it would be. Victor was happy. He placed second, but he was _so happy_... happier than any gold could make him.

After two years of training together, after a year he spent cheering on Yuuri from the sidelines and a year he motivated him from the ice as his fellow competitor, Victor could honestly say Yuuri deserved that gold. He'd worked so hard to achieve the highest place on the podium, towering over the other skaters, that when Victor looked up to the side he couldn't imagine a better way to end this season.

Yuuri noticed him and smiled a tad apologetically.

"Sorry, I took the gold," he said, almost as if he thought it was rightfully Victor's. What a silly boy.

"Yuuri," Victor shook his head with a smile, stepping up onto Yuuri's podium and wrapping an arm around his waist. "You did your best and you got a medal to show for it. Don't make me angry."

He said it teasingly and by the little embarrassed laughter he knew Yuuri caught onto it. Camera flashes sparkled all around them constantly while they held up their medals. A stray thought, one that he didn't have for a very long time popped into his head.

He always used to kiss his medals.

And didn't he promise Yuuri to kiss his medal at last year's GPF? There was something like that, wasn't there?

Victor grinned to himself. He dropped his silver and reached out to take Yuuri's gold. It was already warm from the heat of Yuuri's hand. Blinking furiously, camera's focused on what Victor was doing and he knew that soon the whole world would be talking about it, but... he didn't care. He wanted them to know that Yuuri was his in every single way.

So he pulled the medal up to his lips, giving it a small kiss, while flashes went off from every direction making spots of white dance across his vision. Yuuri seemed to have remembered their promise, because his eyes brightened and he smiled at Victor a little incredulously, but overwhelmingly warm and–

How could Victor have held himself back?

He let go of the medal and leaned down, tilting his head away from the cameras for just an ounce of privacy. His lips pressed against Yuuri's, sweet and slow, and grateful more than anything. Because it was Yuuri who showed Victor how colourful and warm the world could be, it was Yuuri who made him believe in happiness and bright future, it was Yuuri who beat his ass on the ice fair and square, finally, after all these years of loneliness...

"Congratulations, Yuuri," he whispered against slightly trembling lips before he pulled back.

Yuuri's cheeks were flushed, so beautiful in the sharp lights directed at the podium, but he wasn't shy. He looked straight at Victor, with his eyes direct and warm. His lips were quirked in a tiny exasperated manner that Victor had come to associate with Yuuri calling out his name in that cute, meltingly adorable way.

"You're horrible, you know that," Yuuri said, but his voice was light. "Now the press just won't leave us alone."

Victor only shrugged a careless shoulder, pulling Yuuri closer to his side and smiling at the flashing cameras.

"It was going to happen sooner or later," he replied. "And I actually quite like the idea of everyone knowing you're mine and I'm yours. It's a little exciting, isn't it?"

He glanced down at Yuuri, who was busy making a peace sign at one camera. A little was an understatement. Victor was always excited when Yuuri was concerned. Ever since Yuuri swept him off his feet, quite literally, at that unforgettable GPF in Sochi.

When Yuuri turned his head back to him, his smile a bit nasty – _oh, how Victor loved that smile_ – Victor didn't expect these words to fall from his mouth.

"You're dealing with it, then," he said. "I have another season to prepare for, coach."

And he hopped off the podium, leaving Victor alone and shocked and _pleased beyond reasoning_ , because Yuuri was always going to keep him on his toes and he just couldn't wait for what the future will bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vitya is fucking W HI PP E D ladies and gentlemen see yall next class  
> remember to do your assigned reading uwu


	24. double win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri Nikiforov or Victor Katsuki?

"Hey, Yuuri," Victor said, his voice laced with dreamy wondering.

Yuuri, who had skidded to a stop before him to grab a drink, hummed distractedly. He was parched and his muscles were already starting to ache a bit, but he wasn't done yet. The routine was far from perfect and he wouldn't rest until he got the feel for the jumps.

Victor, however, seemed to be preoccupied with something else.

"Say, which sounds better," he asked. "Yuuri Nikiforov or Victor Katsuki?"

Yuuri thanked his guardian deity that he didn't manage to drink anything yet, because he was honest to god certain he would've choked. In fact, his breath got stuck in his throat anyway and he struggled as his lungs screamed at him around his wildly beating heart.

"Wh- _What_?" he finally managed to say.

Victor waved a careless hand. "You know, after we marry. It's customary for the bride to take the groom's surname, but since we're both grooms it's more complicated than that. So I was thinking, why don't we pick the one that sounds better?"

Yuuri couldn't believe this was happening right now. Yakov was standing a few feet away, clearly pretending not to hear them and probably hoping he was somewhere else entirely. Yurio and Mila were chasing each other around the ice behind his back, thankfully too loud to pay any attention to Yuuri's drama. Georgi was in the middle of his routine, immersed in it and gone from the world, only his rhythmic footwork slashing the ice to the beat of Yuuri's heart.

"So, which one sounds better to you?" Victor asked, all sparkly and excited, and Yuuri wanted to bury himself under the ice he was standing on.

Which one was better? How could he even decide?

His mind helpfully supplied him with the images of teenage Yuuri jokingly writing "Yuuri Nikiforov" on the back pages of his notebooks and drawing small hearts instead of the dots over the "i"s. He had a childish crush on Victor for many years, but he never expected it to become true love one day. Now that said day had come, and _he was actually marrying his crush_ , he couldn't imagine himself ever being comfortable with introducing himself as Yuuri Nikiforov. It just sounded so...

Yuuri felt his face heat up. No. Definitely not that one.

In the past, not even once did he ever think of _Victor Katsuki_ , so to do so now was undeniably fresh, but... The idea of _Victor_ taking _his_ name seemed so out of place, so strange and unthinkable, that Yuuri couldn't help a small shiver. It sounded exotic, sure. It also sounded like _the best damn thing_ when it's four in the morning and you're drunk off your ass in some godforsaken bar, hanging off a complete stranger who may or may not look like your teenage idol crush.

Yuuri really couldn't decide. Both were just as bad.

Victor was waiting for his reply though, so Yuuri gathered his wits and swallowing his embarrassment, he said:

"How about we hyphenate?"

He thought Victor would insist on picking between the two, but instead blue eyes widened and Victor's whole face lit up with a smile.

"Double win! I love it, Yuuri!"

And before Yuuri could react, Victor was leaning over the board to kiss him happily.

"Don't be gross on the ice!" Yurio's voice sounded close to them.

_Now they notice_ , Yuuri thought with a hint of bitter amusement.

Instead of letting Victor pull back and giving Yurio some peace of mind, he kissed Victor again, pressing as close as the barrier cutting into his hips allowed. Yurio's angry huffing was the music to his ears while he drank Victor's quiet chuckles straight from his lips, soft and blushing, and happy.

Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov.

He liked that.

He liked that a lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> personally I love yuuri nikiforov but let the boy have his double win too ;3c  
> victor has triple tho lmao why is that boy so extra


	25. a place for two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the only thing Victor could think of to surprise him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a rewatch of the whole series yesterday and this scene just kicked my butt so enjoy lol

Despite the fact that it was Victor who choreographed Yuuri's performances, every time he watched them there was something different, something new, something exciting to look forward to. Yuuri always changed them: added an element here, missed one there, compensated with another rushed into the fluid steps so that it looked like it belonged.

Victor didn't mind. Honestly. There might have been people strict with how their choreographies should be performed, but to Victor it was always about the surprise – the wow factor.

And Yuuri had that in buckets. 

From the moment he started skating Eros – from the smirk he sent Victor's way – Victor was enraptured. He found himself looking forward to the next performance, and then looking forward to the next one even more. Yuuri always upped the level, always made sure to keep surprising him and stay unpredictable, which Victor, honest to god, _loved_.

When Yuuri licked his lips during the Cup of China, Victor's heart almost shot out of his chest. When he skated the whole program perfectly, Victor was simply ecstatic. But what happened the next day was even more thrilling.

Victor remembered the anxiety oozing off of Yuuri before he took to the ice, he remembered their argument, he remembered Yuuri's distorted face as he cried ugly tears and screamed at him.

But what he remembered the most was Yuuri's performance that day. Even after all the tears, he was skating and _smiling_. His face was unreadable and Victor had absolutely no idea how someone who literally had snoot all over his face only minutes before was capable of skating that good and still smiling. But Yuuri _was doing it_.

His form was beautiful, grace in every twitch of a muscle, he oozed confidence and elegance, and Victor was breathless as he watched – enraptured and absolutely unable to look away.

And then Yuuri took his breath away for real.

He changed his last jump, the quadruple loop, into the quadruple flip, Victor's signature move. And Victor could swear that the moment his mind caught up to what his widened in awe eyes were seeing was the moment he lost all hope. All hope of ever shaking off this feeling of love that constricted his chest ever since the GPF banquet last year.

So he ran, _he ran_ , the faster to get to the man who completely ruined his world, and jumped at him with no care for the ice below them, for the people watching, for the cameras and judges and flowers thrown over their heads into the rink.

He kissed him, because what else could he do? What else could he give Yuuri but his whole heart, body and soul?

Time seemed to have stopped for him when they fell, the body in his arms feeling so right Victor could feel the emotions choking tears out of him.

"This was the only thing I could think of to surprise you more than you've surprised me," he finally said when he pulled back a little.

Yuuri's hair was a mess and his face was still flushed from the effort of skating such a demanding program, but he looked radiant and soft, glowing as he lied there on the ice.

"Really?" he asked with a smile so tender it almost made Victor cry for real.

He only allowed the tears to come later that night when they celebrated the silver Yuuri's won: with warm hands and gentle lips and tears so sweet they melted all the distance between them into a perfect cocoon of love and safety, a place for just the two of them.


	26. perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor actually _can_ cook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fed up with hcs that vitya can't do shit in a kitchen bc for real, he's 27 and living alone, he has to know how to make _something_

Humming to Hailee Seinfield's Starving, which was playing on the lowest volume, Victor was making a small breakfast for two. Scrambled eggs with pieces of bacon and fresh tomatoes, smelling deliciously from the pan, luxuriously golden, buttered toasts, and freshly brewed, aromatic coffee that filled the air with warmth; Victor was sparing no effort to make this perfect. Nothing less than that for his Yuuri.

He grinned to himself, chest full of happy thumping.

It's been only a few days since Yuuri moved in and they were still trying to figure out how to share the space and not bump into each other, but the small stumbling couldn't bring Victor's mood down. He was ecstatic to see his place get filled with Yuuri's things, and even more so when they went to bed together and woke up in each others' arms as if there was nothing more right in the world.

Yuuri was still sleeping off the timezone change and Victor could honestly have spent this additional hour since waking just staring at his sleeping fiancé. It would've been amazing and Victor never grew bored of doing it. Yuuri looked so precious in his sleep – his face weirdly concentrated and frowning, sometimes with his mouth open and drooling, other times snoring softly and mumbling; it was adorable. Victor might have already watched him the whole week, but it was finally Sunday, a day off for them both and... Victor wanted it to be somewhat special.

So what if Yuuri had been to his flat before, so what if he'd already stayed the night and lazed around in the cozy sheets? They were about to do it again.

Victor sprinkled some salt and pepper onto the eggs, mixing it in with a wooden spoon. He picked a little onto the spoon to taste check, blowing on it to cool it down.

"Mm, vkusno," he sighed happily, turning off the stove.

A few moments later two piles of scrambled eggs were set on two plates atop a wooden tray with the coffee mugs, forks and a tall glassy vase with a single blue rose already there. There was only one thing missing. Victor quickly chopped some chives and sprinkled them on top of the eggs – now it was perfect.

He turned, ready to take the food to his sleeping prince, and almost had a heart attack when he spotted Yuuri standing in the kitchen entrance and watching him with a smile.

"Yuuri!" Victor complained, lifting a hand to his wildly beating heart. "You scared me half to my grave!"

Yuuri chuckled. "Are you that old already?"

Victor pouted slightly at the teasing. Yuuri knew very well he was sensitive about his age and yet the little rascal never minced his words...

He couldn't be mad at him for long, though. Especially not when Yuuri looked so cute. His hair was messy and his t-shirt dishevelled and crumpled from sleep. His eyes were a bit puffy still, and he looked like a sleep-touched baby: warm and cuddly. Victor wanted to just hold him forever.

Yuuri came over to kiss his cheek good morning and Victor had to take a moment to stop the urge to squat and hide his flushed face in his hands, _and scream_ , because Yuuri had to lightly climb to his toes to reach him.

"You made breakfast?" Yuuri asked, looking curiously at the tray. "I didn't know you can cook."

"I'm a master of many talents," Victor boasted.

"I can see that," Yuuri smiled at him and all Victor wanted to say was " _I can't wait to show them all to you over the years,_ " but he stopped the cheesy trainwreck from crashing, even though his cheeks tinted pink.

Victor cleared his throat. "Let's eat then?"

Sitting opposite Yuuri in his kitchen in St. Petersburg, and watching his fiancé's face colour with delight while he wolfed down the food Victor made, for the first time in forever felt a little bit like home – budding in Victor's heart and setting roots, ready to bloom into a beautiful flower from their love.

Victor hid a smile behind his mug. How perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KILL ME WITH DOMESTIC BLISS AND I SHALL BE ETERNALLY HAPPY
> 
> also, shoutout to the [yoi-fanbook](https://yoi-fanbook.tumblr.com/) for which I'll be writing something soonish so if yall are interested be sure to check it out!! there's not much info out yet but keep it in mind for the future and I'll keep you posted~


	27. vitenka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's in deep trouble.

"Hey, Vitya, have you seen my laptop?" Yuuri asked, looking around. "I swear I–"

"Yuuri!"

"What?" He blinked, turning around and immediately backing up from the star-eyed, grinning Victor. " _What?_ "

"What did you just say?" Victor came closer, his steps like a predator's who has just sniffed out its pray.

Yuuri swallowed. "Have you seen my laptop?"

"Before that," Victor's grin was so sharp, Yuuri had trouble focusing on anything else.

When his brain finally caught up to what Victor wanted to hear, heat rushed to Yuuri's cheeks. It was a little embarrassing, because the name just slipped out of his mouth without any warning since he'd been thinking so much about surprising Victor and calling him that one day. It was even more embarrassing when Victor clearly wanted him to repeat it while staring closely at his lips.

Yuuri's whole face reddened.

"Vitya."

There was a moment of silence before... _Victor squealed_. Like a little girl that sees a doll she wants. He squealed and jumped on Yuuri, hugging him so tight it was hard to breathe. But Yuuri didn't necessarily mind it.

"Once more," Victor demanded.

Yuuri's ears stung a little, red, but he repeated obediently, "Vitya."

_And Vitya giggled._

It was so unexpectedly cute that Yuuri couldn't react at first. His heart was beating wildly in his chest for some reason and his breathing seemed to have stopped altogether. And then he chuckled too, and hugged Victor back, because his happiness was infectious and Yuuri didn't feel like fighting it.

"You really like when I call you that?" he asked, smiling into Victor's shoulder.

"You have no idea," Victor replied, and Yuuri just knew he was grinning from his voice alone. "But there's one more I want you to try."

He pulled back a little, looking at Yuuri with sparkling eyes. How could Yuuri say no to that?

"What is it?"

"Try to say Vitenka." Victor's voice trembled a little and Yuuri thought he knew why since his own heart trembled as well.

Yuuri licked his suddenly dry lips and cleared his throat, gathering courage, very aware that Victor's whole attention was tuned in on him.

"V-Vitenka," he said, looking up at Victor.

The reaction was equally as intense as before, but so much more subtle. Victor's cheeks flushed, his ears turned red, and his eyes widened so much Yuuri thought he would pass out. And the worst was: Victor was quiet. He wasn't saying anything, wasn't making any sounds at all, almost as if Yuuri's words were a magical spell that froze him into a living statue.

"Victor?" Yuuri asked. "Are you okay?"

It snapped him out of the weird state. Victor blinked.

"Ah, yes, I'm okay." He covered his mouth with a hand, looking away and mumbling, "It was just cuter than I imagined..."

Yuuri smiled, relieved. "Can we go back to the matter at hand then?"

"Yes, right." Victor nodded and Yuuri looked about the room once more, turning his back on him. "What were you saying before, Yuu-chan?"

Yuuri was never struck with lightning, but in that moment he imagined it must have felt a little like that. His whole body froze, temperature suddenly rising until his face turned red up to the roots of his hair. Robotically, totally numb, he turned to Victor.

" _Wha–_ "

"Yuu-chan," Victor repeated. "Did I pronounce it right?"

He did. Perfectly.

"Yuu-chan, are you okay?" Victor asked, concerned, but he was smiling as if he knew Yuuri's internal dilemma.

And Yuuri was in deep, deep trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a customary vitya drabble bc we all love it
> 
> petition: LET YUURI SAY VITYA IN S2


	28. fou d'amour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since Russian is not very romantic and Yuuri knows English well, there's only one other language Victor can do the wooing in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a big shoutout to [@maniacani](http://maniacani.tumblr.com/) for checking the french, thanks again babe~ //sends smooches

Victor was good with his tongue. No, not like that. Or maybe, like that _too_ , but this wasn't the point. The point was he was good at speaking. He always was fairly eloquent and rarely been caught with nothing to say when he was a kid. And he was good at learning foreign languages as well.

He picked up English a bit from school, and later when he started competing. English was easy.

French on the other hand... now that was a journey. Even that Victor did, in the end, with an dedicated heart. It was so worth it to see Chris smile at him brilliantly when he one day struck up a conversation in French, a bit broken and shaky, but just as enthusiastic.

And then came Japanese.

Victor honestly didn't expect to learn a language as exotic and foreign as that, but Yuuri made him do impossible things. It was easier said than done, and even though Victor could messily put a few sentences together, he as far from the fluency he'd achieved in the other two.

So when it came to impressing a certain love of his life, Victor couldn't help but fall back to what he could actually use to do the _impressing_ part.

Pushing back Yuuri's hair out of his face, tucking a lock behind his ear with tender fingers, Victor smiled.

"Où avez-vous été toute ma vie?"

Yuuri blinked at him and cocked his head to the side, so cute and confused Victor wanted to coo. He knew Yuuri was fluent in English, maybe knew a few phrases from other languages, but French was a mystery to him. A tingle of excitement raced through Victor's body as he looked into wide, beautiful brown eyes, which shone warmly every time Yuuri looked at him.

"Qu'est-ce que vous avez de beaux yeux," Victor said, gently running his thumb high over Yuuri's cheekbone.

Yuuri's cheeks pinked as if Victor's touch stained them.

"Um..." Yuuri bit his lip. "Victor? What are you–?"

"Je pourrais rester heureux toute ma vie, tant que vous serez à mes côtés," Victor told him instead, taking Yuuri's hands and kissing the top of both.

Yuuri's blush deepened, but his confusion dispelled a little, giving way to a small indulgent smile that made Victor's heart thump happily in his chest. Yuuri's smiles always made him feel so silly.

"Okay, I have no idea what you're saying, but it has to be good," Yuuri said, looking at him so trustingly Victor wanted to crush him in his arms and tell him in all the languages of the world how much he meant to him.

He leaned in to press a precious kiss to the corner of Yuuri's smiling mouth, after which he whispered, " Votre sourire est un don. Merci, mon chéri."

Yuuri shook his head light-heartedly, completely at a loss.

"Okay, okay, I get it," he chuckled. "Can we go back to practice, Mr. Suave French?"

Victor chuckled as well. "One more."

Yuuri looked at him expectantly, and Victor shifted closer to press their foreheads together.

"Je t'aime, Yuuri," he said.

A breath of silence later, Victor heard Yuuri's soft voice say back:

"I understood that one."

Before Victor could do anything, Yuuri added a most cherished "I love you too," which sent Victor's heart into a merry song. Without waiting a moment, Yuuri skated off to practice his routine again, but even from afar Victor could see his flushed face. And it made him _fou d'amour_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's what he actually tells his precious hubbie:  
> "Où avez-vous été toute ma vie?" (Where have you been all my life?)  
> "Qu'est-ce que vous avez de beaux yeux," (What beautiful eyes you have)  
> "Je pourrais rester heureux toute ma vie, tant que vous serez à mes côtés," (I could be happy my whole life, as long as you were by my side)  
> "Votre sourire est un don. Merci, mon chéri." (Your smile is a gift. Thank you, my darling.)  
> "Je t'aime," (I love you)  
> fou d’amour (crazy in love)
> 
> GIVE ME VITYA SPEAKING FRENCH IN S2 PLS AND THANK


	29. the bomb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one really knows anything about Victor's family. Well, Yuuri is about to find out.

"I don't think I ever heard you mention anything about it, but..." Yuuri bit his lip, hesitating for just a moment before lifting his gaze. "What about your family?"

The bomb has dropped.

They were working on the guest list for the wedding, or at least on what Yuuri's mother complied for them to revise. There were multiple cousins and other distant relatives from Yuuri's side of the family, the number reaching as high as fifty. Victor didn't have any problem with it, so it all went smoothly – they added some people in, mostly their fellow skaters and a few of Victor's friends from the rink, but since Yuuri's mom had no idea who to invite from Victor's side, they had to do it now. Except... Victor was expertly avoiding the subject until Yuuri gathered all his courage and outright _asked_.

Victor was now looking down at the carpet with a grim face that Yuuri didn't associate with anything good.

"Look, I don't want to pressure you to tell me," he said, resting a hand on Victor's wrist gently. "If you don't want to talk about it, it's fine. I just thought I'd ask just in case."

"It's okay," Victor said, smiling, even though his eyes didn't. "You're going to be my husband soon, so I should tell you anyway, right?"

"Your don't have to–"

Victor shook his head and Yuuri hushed down. He sat there next to him, waiting for Victor to speak when he was ready. It was probably the most helpless Yuuri had felt ever since they'd met. He wanted to take all of the hurt that was undeniably there and replace it with love and warmth. Victor looked best when he was radiating with happiness, after all...

"My father disowned me," Victor finally said, his voice heavy. "He never liked the idea of me doing figure skating, ever since I was little. But then when I decided to compete professionally he just... I was maybe fifteen at the time." There was a dull light in Victor's eyes and Yuuri's heart clenched. "I run away from home, hid at Yakov's. After I won my first medal I came back to show him. I thought maybe he'd change his mind if he sees me succeed, you know?"

The corners of Victor's mouth lifted in a bitter, sad smile, unlike anything Yuuri had seen, and he squeezed Victor's hand, more to ease his own feelings than Victor's. Blue eyes turned to him and Victor tried for a careless smile, but he failed. The pain was so obvious on his face.

"He told me to never come back there again," Victor continued. "He even went as far as to get legal papers for a name change." Victor laughed, but it was a hollow sound that echoed across Yuuri's heart without end. "Nikiforov is actually my mother's maiden name. She's a third generation Greek, her grandparents moved here years ago." He waved a careless hand. "She let me use it, but she was too much under my father's thumb to actually do anything else."

There was a moment of silence when Victor seemed to be lost in thought and Yuuri wondered if there was more to the story.

There was more, for sure. Victor just summed up years of suffering, of loneliness and hurt, in a few sentences.

"I'm so sorry," he said quietly, wrapping an arm around Victor and giving him a hug. It was the only thing he could do for him and it pained him quite a bit.

"Thank you," Victor replied, returning the hug.

He pressed his forehead to Yuuri's shoulder and Yuuri let his cheek rest on his head in silent support.

"I have three younger siblings, you know," Victor spoke up, surprising Yuuri. "Or had."

"What happened to them?"

"No idea," Victor said. "I lost all contact with them after I left home and they never reached out, so..."

Yuuri pulled him closer. He swallowed and then said something which he hoped was okay, but the knot of anxiety choked his words into a squeak.

"Do you want to invite them to the wedding?"

He cleared his throat and tried again. "I mean, we can look them up on Facebook. Everyone's on Facebook, right? Send the invitations and whether they show up or not you'll know you tried one last time. They're your siblings, not your parents. Maybe it's worth a shot, what do you think?"

Victor's face burrowed in his neck and his arms tightened around Yuuri's waist before a mumble of "Okay," reached his ears. It was soft, the most vulnerable Yuuri had ever heard Victor, and he couldn't help the surge of protectiveness from wetting his eyes. He held Victor for a long time, just staying close to him, and wishing with all of his heart to take his pain away.

_I'll be your family now, Victor._

_And I will never make you hurt._

He kissed the side of Victor's head lovingly.

_I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY FOR THE HEAVY VIBES BUT I HAD TO GET THIS OFF MY CHEST
> 
> also, what would you guys say if I said I wanted to write a longer fic? maybe even multichapter? yay or nay?


	30. not a thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri loves Victor's hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy long time no see yall~ sorry for the delay but I just got back to uni and life's a bit crazy rn //sweats  
> but that having been said, this is second to last chapter of this fic, so I hope you stick around to see it through ^u^)b  
> enjoy~!

"You know, I've been meaning to ask for a while now..." Yuuri looked at Victor's profile.

The glow from the TV in the otherwise dark room made him look a little blue, his hair a pearly silver, so beautiful and unique. It's been getting longer since Victor started coaching him. The ends tickled the slim nape, the front falling into Victor's eyes even more than before. It made him look cute, a bit messy and unpolished, so different from the camera-ready aura he'd had during his early days.

Yuuri couldn't help but to reach for it, touch it, run his fingers through the side of the silky smooth locks that threaded through his fingers light like a spider's web. Victor angled his head towards him, craving more petting. His eyes half-closed as he hummed in delight, which made Yuuri smile fondly.

"Why did you cut your hair?" Yuuri asked. His hand slid down Victor's nape, thumb rubbing over the peach fuzz at the side of it, so smooth and soft, almost like a baby's.

Victor's eyes brightened. "What, you like my hair long?"

"I like your hair, period," Yuuri denied. And while it was true, a part of him – that young, impressionable part that still kept up posters of young Victor around the walls of his heart – cooed in agreement. "I'm just curious."

Victor waited a little to answer while Yuuri stroked his hair, and the longer he did, the more he wished it was longer so he could brush and untangle the small knots that no doubt were there after the whole day...

"I wanted to change my image," Victor finally said. "Nothing drastic like getting a piercing or a tattoo, though. Cutting my hair seemed like the best choice at the time."

"Do you miss it?" Yuuri pushed the silver bangs out of Victor's eyes. "It must have been cold the first time you went outside."

Victor chuckled. "I actually got sick a week in."

Yuuri smiled at that. He waited for Victor to answer his question, while he kept on stroking the fringe away from Victor's forehead. Victor's face, which was usually half covered by his hair and thus that much harder to read, was open now. The brows were relaxed, the mouth softly curled and his cheeks rosy in a casual, stunning way as he leaned into Yuuri's hands trustingly.

Yuuri wished he could take a picture.

(And put it on one of the walls in his heart, right next to a young, long-haired Victor.)

"I kind of miss it," Victor admitted quietly after a while. "It's like missing the good, old days, I guess? That sort of nostalgic, but good feeling."

"You can always grow it back," Yuuri pointed out.

Startling blue eyes gleamed with the glow of the TV when Victor looked straight at him.

"Do you want me to grow it back?" he asked, but Yuuri only huffed a laugh.

"It's your hair, Victor," he said. "Grow it back if _you_ want it back. I like you despite it."

He should have seen it coming. Victor was always like that when Yuuri admitted he liked him, or worse when he said the other L word.

With a squeak of excitement and bright adoration in his eyes, Victor threw his arms around Yuuri. He crushed him in a hug, rubbing their cheeks together and making Yuuri laugh. Yuuri couldn't see, but he was fairly certain that a goofy, overjoyed smile was wide on Victor's lips, and he couldn't stop one just like it from showing on his own face.

"I love you, too, Yuuri," Victor proclaimed. Yuuri's body heat up a little, a flush to his cheeks. "But I'm going to leave my hair as it is."

"Why?" Yuuri asked, hooking his arms around Victor as well, comfortable to just stay like that.

"Because it's always a big change, you know?" Victor hummed, burying his face in Yuuri's neck and nuzzling at his skin. "And I don't want to change a thing right now."

Yuuri's heart thumped against his ribcage joyfully, and he grinned, a happy, soft grin, which he hid in Victor's short, silver hair. He wouldn't change a thing either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chap is the last one and I'll probably post it this week but idk when so keep an eye out ^u^)b  
> I'm working on something else (a few somethings actually) so don't forget me, I'll definitely be around~


	31. so much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're just a pair of dorks.

Over the rim of the magazine Yuuri was reading, he secretly stole glances at Victor, because... how could he _not_?

Victor was so beautiful in his casual clothes, which weren't really casual if you thought about it. Victor only owned brand things, so when he first brought Yuuri shopping, Yuuri felt like a Cinderella in some old, tattered rags. There was no denying that the extravagant style suited Victor well, but seeing him stripped off all the extra – in just pants and a simple t-shirt – was something Yuuri couldn't stop admiring.

The legs of Victor's pants were rolled up to mid-calf and his shirt was crumpled where Makkachin had lied on him previously. His hair was a little messy and he pinned the part that annoyingly kept falling into his eyes with two cute clips with tiny bows, which he apparently got from a fan once. Charming blue eyes were laughing at the video he was watching on his phone and even his mouth was quirked in a soft, but gleeful way, completely masking any of the wrinkles Victor imagined there to be.

He was beautiful in a way Yuuri hadn't seen often.

Victor was always presentable, that's one thing Yuuri quickly learned about him. He was always camera-ready, even if he had just rolled out of bed seconds ago. Somehow, by some naturally blessed genes or witchcraft, could be both, he always looked prim and proper as if paparazzi could jump out of the bushes anytime.

But seeing Victor in less than perfectly ironed clothes, with bows in his hair, relaxed and smiling so gently...

Yuuri sighed to himself quietly. Apparently not quietly enough, because Victor's eyes lifted up to him and Yuuri blushed at having been caught staring. Victor only smiled.

"Want to join me?" he asked, wiggling his free arm and offering Yuuri space.

Yuuri bit his lip. He wanted to. And Makkachin was down by the couch now, so he could just... He made the decision even before his mind caught up to it.

Leaving the magazine in the armchair he'd just vacated he sneaked over and crawled onto the couch, pressing close to Victor so that he was almost half-lying on top of him. Victor didn't mind, though. He pulled Yuuri closer, wrapping an arm around him to keep him from falling off the side. Yuuri let his cheek rest on Victor's chest with a small contented sigh.

And then he realized he couldn't watch him from this position anymore.

He pouted.

The warmth and cosiness of the embrace, and the overwhelming smell of Victor, were enough to compensate for it and soon Yuuri found himself drifting on a cloud of bliss before his attention caught on Victor's phone.

"What are you watching?" he asked, peeking at the screen.

And really, Yuuri had to berate himself, because _what was he expecting_?

Victor hit play and the black figure moved on the ice to the familiar tune of Stammi Vicino. "Remember that video of my program you did way before we even met? It popped up in my likes, so I couldn't help it."

"That was so embarrassing," Yuuri groaned, hiding his face in Victor's shoulder. "Watch the one we did together at the gala instead, it's so much better."

"Eh?" Victor's voice took a sulky tone. "I like this one, though. It looks like you're calling out to me and me alone. It feels like you liked me even before I became your coach."

The earlier embarrassment doubled, Yuuri felt his cheeks burn.

"Victor, we're engaged," he complained, but Victor wasn't listening.

"So what?" Yuuri couldn't see his face, but he would have bet his last penny that Victor was grinning. "For how long did you like me? Tell me, Yuuri, tell me everything!"

He poked Yuuri's cheek impatiently and Yuuri couldn't help but laugh. He swatted at Victor's hand, turning a bit to gaze up into his eyes.

"It kind of seems like forever," he admitted, and it was true. Ever since he was a kid he'd admired Victor, so for those feelings to evolve was kind of natural. "I've always looked up to you, and, honestly, now that I know you better than just a skater or a coach... I like you even more." He paused for a moment. "As if that ring on your finger wasn't proof enough."

Victor chuckled delightedly. "Oh, Yuuri."

He dipped his head down to press a kiss to Yuuri's forehead, and then kissed his nose and lips as well, making Yuuri's smile turn as goofy as his own.

"I like you too," Victor whispered conspiratorially and Yuuri fought the urge to giggle.

What a pair of dorks they made, he thought fondly, while he reached out to pull Victor into a proper kiss. A pair of dorks, but perfect dorks, he decided as he grinned against Victor's own grinning lips.

_God, I love him so much._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is it, my friends, the last of this collection of drabbles! I hope yall enjoyed it and will keep supporting me in the future, but for now: thanks so much for reading and commenting, I appreciate every single one of you. you guys made me feel welcome in this fandom and for that I'm eternally grateful. hopefully, I'll see yall in my future works, bye~
> 
> ps. keep an eye out for the [yoi-fanbook](https://yoi-fanbook.tumblr.com/) which I've written a short story for  
> ps2. I'm planning to make a small zine-like fic of my own (I'm not really set on any details yet and the story isn't even finished) but if you want any updates on that, make sure to follow [my tumblr](http://katzuyas.tumblr.com/) and/or [my twitter](https://twitter.com/kurooheartshina)


	32. best night ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kissing is weird, Sochi banquet is taboo, and confessions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought I was done with yoi drabbles but what's a better way to crawl out of a writer's block than to drabble some floof amirite? and since I was too lazy to make a new collection, here I am with an unforeseen number of freshly baked drabbles that I hope yall will enjoy ;3c

Kissing was still weird, Yuuri decided as he kissed his fiancé back.

His fiancé.

His _fucking_ fiancé.

How did that even happen?

Yuuri still had trouble believing that it was all real. That Victor Nikiforov, _the_ Victor Nikiforov, the same one Yuuri had nursed a crush on since, like, _forever_ , was currently wearing a golden ring on his finger. A ring that Yuuri himself had put there with slightly trembling fingers.

How did he even get the guts to do that?

"You're thinking too much again," Victor, the same Victor, _his fiancé Victor_ complained, pressing his mouth softly against Yuuri's as if he was trying to pull him back into the mood, but Yuuri was too–

"I'm sorry," he replied, blushing sheepishly. "You're just very distracting."

It made Victor grin, a little crooked smile that looked simply stunning on his face. Victor's cheeks were delicately flushed and his eyes sparkled warmly with love and delight. How did Yuuri get so lucky? He remembered everything that happened during the last year, but even now, sitting in Victor's lap, with Victor's thumbs rubbing slow circles into his hipbones, Yuuri felt a little like Cinderella.

Was it close to midnight yet? Would he have to leave the ball, leave this happiness when the hands of the clock meet?

"I'm flattered, love," Victor murmured, kissing the corner of Yuuri's mouth again and Yuuri couldn't help the way it twitched into a smile under his lips. "What's so distracting about me now?"

Yuuri choked on his laugh a bit. "How about everything? Ever? Have you met me, Victor?"

Victor chuckled as well, pulling Yuuri into himself until Yuuri was almost lying on top of his chest. Victor's nose gently touched Yuuri's, their foreheads leaned together, a tender caress that melted Yuuri's heart and made his eyes suddenly grow hotter when all the love and affection hit him hard.

"Of course I have," Victor said. "Best night of my life."

Yuuri groaned. "The banquet is taboo, we talked about this."

Victor made a face at him, like a kicked puppy, and Yuuri only had to take one look to reach out and push Victor's cheeks up into a smile with his fingers. They both laughed.

"Fine," Victor said. "How about China then? That is another best night of my life."

Yuuri shook his head in slight exasperation. "How many best nights do you have?"

"Well, let's see," Victor hummed, counting out. "There's the banquet, okay, okay, I'm not saying more! Then the China Cup, and Barcelona. Oh, Barcelona!" He sighed, his mouth a happy, heart-mouth smile that made Yuuri blush. "That proposal was spectacular. And then you went and won silver, talk about best nights, huh?"

Yuuri mumbled something under his breath, but Victor only grinned at him and let it slide, asking instead: "What about yours, Yuuri?"

He didn't have to think about it. He really didn't.

"I was twelve," Yuuri said immediately, watching Victor's eye lose the spark for a moment when he realized it wasn't about their relationship. Yuuri smirked a little. "It was the night I watched the junior skating championship for the first time. And there was this one skater that just took my breath away." Yuuri smiled fondly at the memory. "I couldn't fall asleep at all that night, my heart was beating so fast. So I googled that skater and watched all of the videos available just to see him again."

"Wow, that sounds like quite a night," Victor smiled at him. "Is he the reason you took up skating?"

"Mostly," Yuuri agreed. "He's my inspiration, my motivation, my guiding star, you might say. And, hopefully soon, my husband, too."

He grinned, even though his cheeks were stinging red – it was embarrassing to say out loud.

But Victor's reaction was worth it: the surprise on him looked stunning, and Yuuri would never get over the rush in his veins at the heartbeat of pause in Victor's breathing before a high keen left his lips. It was no wonder Victor based his performances around the emotion. It was quite addicting, Yuuri had to admit.

"Yuuri!" Victor cooed, crushing Yuuri in his arms. "You should've told me sooner!"

"Like you didn't know," Yuuri snorted into Victor's neck, wrapping his arms around his shoulders comfortably. "I know you found my stash of posters one day, Mari told me."

Victor wasn't contrite at all. In fact, Yuuri could feel the grin pressed against his head.

"Oops," Victor said. It only served to make Yuuri snort again.

They stayed close like that for a long, comfortable moment, before Victor slowly pulled back and tilted Yuuri's chin to make their eyes meet. Blue against brown, both meltingly warm and full of love.

"You've spent so long chasing after me that it's only fair that I chase after you for the rest of our lives," he said, but Yuuri shook his head at him with a tiny smile.

"Why chase, when you've already got me?" he asked.

And when Victor leaned in to kiss him again, it was no less weird than before. But it was their weird and in a weird, completely silly way that Yuuri couldn't have explained even if he tried, that made it _just perfect_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't promise you a chapter a day as it was with the previous ones in this collection, but there will be at least one a week, maybe two ^u^)b I've got about 8 done and I'm gonna work on others that I have lined up, but if you have any prompts pls drop me a word here or on my tumblr [@katzuyas](http://katzuyas.tumblr.com/) and make sure you check out/look out for my other yoi fics~


	33. slave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Yuuri stops blushing when asking for help with putting on his costume, Victor takes matters in his own hands. Of course, his genius plan backfires. As always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember that pic of irl eros costume?? [this one](http://aminoapps.com/page/yuri-on-ice-4114513/6996332/yuri-costume-eros)  
> I was so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! that it zips this way so ofc I had to put it in a fic bc we all know vitya, just like me, would salivate doing yuuri's zipper like that ;3c

"Help me zip up," Yuuri said, not even asking shyly how he used to do at the beginning.

Victor was more than happy to help, though. In fact, as soon as Yuuri had turned around, he was already reaching towards the zipper that sat softly against the skin at Yuuri's lower back. But Victor was also pouting, because _what was this_? Where was the flush on Yuuri's cheeks, the fleeting look of embarrassment, the adorable stuttering? It was his job to help Yuuri find his Eros, but now that he had, Victor somehow felt left out a bit without the beautiful blush on his fiancé's face.

Dutifully, he pulled the zipper all the way up, wrapping Yuuri's back in tight, black fabric. He didn't step away after he was done, however, no. He ran his palms over the gently protruding muscles, smoothing out any wrinkles in the fabric of the costume and rubbing his thumbs into any knots in Yuuri's tensed up shoulders he'd encountered. When Yuuri sighed shakily, relaxing under the touch, Victor smiled.

_Success._

He leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to Yuuri's nape, feeling him shiver on his lips.

"Are you nervous?" he asked quietly, continuing to lightly massage his back.

"A little," Yuuri admitted. "But you know me, I'm always nervous."

Victor chuckled quietly. If Yuuri was joking, he was in a pretty good shape.

Victor let his hands travel down to settle on Yuuri's hips, but Yuuri's voice dissuaded him from what he intended to do.

"Don't stop," Yuuri pleaded, and how could Victor say no to that?

"If you win gold, I can give you a far better massage, you know," he offered seductively, shifting his hands lower, right over the perfect mounds of Yuuri's ass, and squeezing.

Yuuri yelped.

And blushed.

And turned around to look at Victor, embarrassment and yearning hidden deep beneath a scolding gaze.

"We're in public," he hissed, eyes flicking around the changing room, while Victor kept on grinning. No one was even looking at them. "I'm skating in less than an hour. Why are you like this?"

"Like what?" Victor asked innocently. "In love with my fiancé? Motivating you to do your best?"

Yuuri's face reddened even more and he groaned something incomprehensible under his breath, only making Victor's grin sharper. He stepped closer, taking Yuuri's hands in his and bringing up both to press a kiss to each one equally.

Really, there were so many shades to Yuuri's blushes. Victor loved seeing them all. Especially one after another after another...

"How about we make a deal?" he asked.

Yuuri cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing at him. Victor loved it. The mistrust, the doubt, the suspicion. It was like Yuuri knew him deeply enough to not trust him at face value and it was _incredible_.

Victor's heart thumped softly in his chest as he looked at his most beloved person in the entire world.

"What kind of deal are we talking about?" Yuuri asked carefully.

"How about this," Victor proposed. "If you win gold, I'll give you a massage and will do all the house chores for a day-"

"A week," Yuuri cut in.

Victor was about to pout, but then changed his mind.

"Fine, for a week," he agreed.

"And what if I don't win?" Yuuri asked.

_Ah._

Victor smirked to himself, stepping close enough for their noses to brush. Yuuri's eyes widened a little, his startled breath fanning Victor's lips, but Yuuri didn't pull back. Neither did he look away. He was fiercely staring straight at him, seeing only him, and Victor's heart swell with affection.

And then he smirked.

"If you don't get gold," Victor said, "I'll tie you to our bed. For the whole week."

The blush was back on Yuuri's cheeks, full force. Deep crimson spread over his face and crawled down his neck, and Victor absently licked his lips since he was fairly certain it reached as far down as Yuuri's chest. Yuuri's eyes flicked down to Victor's mouth, following the movement in breathless silence, before he caught himself and forced his gaze back up.

"So, what do you say, Yuuri?" Victor purred.

There was a brief flash of something on Yuuri's face and then he pressed his cheek to Victor's, mouth at his ear, whispering hotly:

"I'll make you my slave for a week, just you wait, Nikiforov," he promised.

Victor trembled, his skin crawling with desire that awakened with a blaze at the hard promise in Yuuri's voice.

"I can't wait," he replied, star-struck.

And when Yuuri smirked at him from the centre of the rink, Victor knew he was going to serve this man for a week, a month, a year – his entire life, if only he'd ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who wants to see vitya nikiforov, skating living legend, being yuuri katsuki's slave? hands up?  
> well good news for all yall, we've got a whole anime about it, it's called yuri on ice lmao  
> (vitya is a tool and I love it)


	34. on your knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's on his knees and Yuuri wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> careful of the nsfw below ^u^)b

Victor's lips were spread around his dick and Yuuri could do nothing but breathe harshly and moan as Victor worked his magic and swirled his tongue over the sensitive head inside his hot, wet mouth, sucking and slurping and licking.

Yuuri's whole body was hot.

He felt like he was going to fall right on his ass if it wasn't for the wall of the bathroom stall they had locked themselves in before Victor's hands made it inside Yuuri's pants.

His knees were shaking, too.

One of Victor's hands rested on his thigh right where the line of his pulled down pants was, blunt nails digging into his skin. It didn't hurt, Yuuri hardly felt it. The overwhelming sensations coming from his dick were too distracting to notice something so insignificant.

His hands found the only purchase they could – in Victor's hair, tugging and pulling and caressing it roughly.

Victor hummed and groaned and whimpered when Yuuri's fingers caught in the tangles. Normally, Yuuri would say he was sorry. But right now, seeing tears gather in the corners of Victor's beautiful eyes, seeing his lips turn raspberry red, seeing them swallow his dick so eagerly and with as much enthusiasm as Yuuri wanted to sink inside him... he wasn't sorry at all.

He tried to keep his hips still to make it easier on Victor.

Instead, Victor took him all the way in. Yuuri could feel the tip of his dick hit the back of Victor's throat every time Victor swallowed him whole. It made him tremble, it made him bite his lips on a groan, it made him want to fuck Victor's sweet mouth and own it, _own him_ , like he'd never been owned by anyone.

Catching Victor's jaw in hand, Yuuri pulled him off his dick which now glistened with saliva in the poor light of the bathroom. Victor's face was a mess. A beautiful mess that twisted something sharply in Yuuri's chest, sizzling his skin and loosening his tongue like a magic spell.

"You look so good on your knees," Yuuri praised, stroking a flushed cheek and looking down at Victor whose tears have fallen, leaving trails on his cheeks; whose lips were swollen, deep red and wet and trembling; whose eyes begged and starved, like he was a beggar and Yuuri his only way of salvation.

"I will spend my whole life like this if it pleases you," Victor said, and Yuuri knew he meant it. Heat rushed to Yuuri's face, craving nestling against his heart: he wouldn't mind that. "But right now let me just–"

Victor licked his lips, his eyes lowering to Yuuri's dick which was only centimetres from his face. Yuuri shifted his hips closer, moving his hand to hold the back of Victor's head. He rubbed his dick against Victor's cheek, aware of the throbbing need to sit himself inside Victor's perfect mouth again, but choosing to ignore it for just a moment.

Victor whined, trying to turn his head to catch it, though the hand Yuuri kept firmly in his hair stopped him. With a growing burn in his chest, Yuuri watched how the precum that leaked from the tip of his dick smear on Victor's cheek along with his tears and saliva, and his fingers tightened making Victor gasp.

He looked so good like this, so messy, so claimed, so completely _Yuuri's_ that when Victor's mouth opened, Yuuri pushed his dick inside it without waiting any longer.

And Victor happily got back to his task, eagerly sucking on the length and moaning, groaning, sobbing.

Yuuri couldn't get enough.

When the release finally took him, he shuddered and banged the back of his head on the wooden wall. Victor's tongue worked out every bit of cum he had as Yuuri rode his orgasm on the cloud of boneless bliss. He came back just in time to see Victor swallow, and he shivered again, eyes dark, still. He pulled Victor's jaw up, staring into dazed blue eyes.

Red in the face, Yuuri wiped Victor's lips with his thumb, even if it did nothing to clean up the mess coating the rest of his face.

"Come on up, I'll help you with yours," Yuuri offered, aware of how Victor has been ignoring his own arousal in favour of Yuuri's. Momentarily, he was surprised by the blush blossoming on Victor's cheeks.

"I– I'm–" Victor stuttered. "I already... you know."

To say Yuuri wasn't stunned in shock would be a lie. To say there wasn't a flash of satisfaction, hot like burning coals, spreading over his gut, would be a lie as well.

And Yuuri was not a liar.

"Really?" he asked, strangely pleased. "You liked it that much?"

Embarrassed Victor was something he didn't see often, but when he showed his head, he was flushed and adorable, and Yuuri could hardly get enough.

"I did," Victor admitted, unaware of Yuuri's thoughts. "You should see yourself sometime, Yuuri. You're a real sight when you get going."

There was a small blissful smile on Victor's lips that Yuuri wanted to kiss off of him. Very badly.

So he helped Victor up, holding him by the arms and planning to do just that. Victor groaned as he straightened. The sound of the joints cracking was deafeningly loud in the silent bathroom.

Until Yuuri snickered, promptly choking on laughter that echoed off the tiled walls, clear and vibrant.

"Yuuri!" Victor gasped, offended. "I can't believe you're laughing at this after what I just–"

Yuuri kissed him before he could finish, wiping his cheeks with his hands.

"Maybe next time I should be on my knees," he said, eyes twinkling in amusement. "We should use my youth and let these old bones of yours rest."

"I'm not that old yet!" Victor protested, pouting. "I can perfectly well handle a blowjob or two!"

He didn't say anything about Yuuri's offer, though, and Yuuri smirked into his mouth as he kissed him again – tasting himself on Victor's skilled tongue and vowing to himself to give Victor back as much as he got.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you guys remember yoi wednesdays? man I can't believe that was already 3 months ago how the time flies //sighs


	35. three's a crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri sits Victor down for a serious talk.

When Yuuri sat him down on the couch, holding his hands lightly, almost protectively, Victor knew something was up. The look on Yuuri's face was serious and he was biting down on his lip as if there was a secret he was trying really hard to keep from spilling. Eyes flicking around nervously, he avoided looking at Victor at all cost, which was honestly making Victor himself feel the telling clench of fear in his gut.

"Yuuri?" he asked carefully. "What is it? Are you okay?"

Yuuri startled, surprised at the sound of Victor's voice, almost as if he forgot Victor was even there. He flushed and looked down as he rushed on with apologies.

"Ah, yes, sorry! I'm fine, I'm okay, sorry. It's nothing bad, I promise!"

Victor frowned, his nervousness giving way to worry. He pulled Yuuri down to sit right next to him, refusing to let go of his now slightly trembling hands. Squeezing a little, Victor smiled softly, wishing there was more he could do to quell whatever fears Yuuri's mind was making him believe in now.

"You know you can tell me anything, Yuuri," he said. "Whatever it is, we can deal with it together."

Yuuri took a deep breath, and then another, and finally looked Victor in the eye.

"Okay," he said slowly. "I've been thinking a lot recently, and I know that we're both really busy with practicing, but I just–" Yuuri paused, swallowed, and after a shaky breath continued. Victor's heart sunk, the bad feeling from before returning to kick him with double the force. "I just think it's time? I– Look, it's just a proposition, so you can say no, okay? I just... I just thought it'd be nice, but if you–"

Victor was already on edge and Yuuri was spiralling further and further, so without giving him a chance to completely turn around and withdraw, Victor cut in.

"You first need to tell me what this is about before we can decide what to do, right?" he reminded with a smile, a forced one, which both of them knew.

Yuuri flushed a little in embarrassment. He tugged on the hands Victor was still holding, but Victor refused to let go. Instead he fought down the fear curling in his chest and lifted Yuuri's hands up to kiss them both and smile encouragingly again.

Biting his lip, Yuuri mumbled something. It was quiet, too quiet, and Victor completely missed it.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

Yuuri's flush deepened, but he repeated, slower and louder: "I said I want to get another dog."

_Oh._

"Oh."

Relief washed over him like an Ice Bucket Challenge he'd done a few years ago and Victor felt just as numb as he had back then.

Yuuri wanted another dog.

He wasn't thinking about breaking up, or separating, or getting another coach, or moving, or admitting to being a thief, a murderer, a serial killer... He _just_ wanted another dog.

Victor felt like laughing. His stunned silence must have made Yuuri more nervous with every passing second, because he twitched and shifted and then the words were spilling out of his mouth in a flood Victor couldn't stop.

"It's okay if you don't want to!" Yuuri rushed to say, clutching onto Victor's hands and squeezing. "Makkachin is old now and we need all the time we have to care for him, but I just thought it'd be nice, for him too, to get a new one before–"

Victor did the only thing he could think of: he covered the distance between them and kissed Yuuri soundly to hush him down. It worked like magic. Yuuri kissed him back with no reluctance and Victor grinned into his lips.

"I love it," Victor said, joy spreading over him. "Let's get another dog. Or maybe two? So they won't be bored when we're not around? Makka is an old man now, he might not want to play with the youngsters all the time, so it's better to have options."

"Really? You're okay with this?" Yuuri asked, a smile finally making its way onto his face. His eyes brightened and looked up at Victor, beautiful and hopeful and warm.

"Absolutely!" Victor grinned, pulling Yuuri into a tight hug. "I wish I thought of this first. Actually, how about we take three? Then we can name the smallest one Yurio."

Yuuri laughed openly at that, nerves still rumbling somewhere low in his chest, but when he pushed his cheek against Victor's shoulder and took a deep breath, Victor could see them uncurl their claws.

"Sure," Yuuri agreed, resting his hands on the small of Victor's back as he relaxed fully into the embrace. "Let's do that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u cannot tell me they would only stop at one doge, I won't believe those lies


	36. no regrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is drunk... or is he?

"Yuuuu–"

Victor was cut off by his own hiccup and Yuuri sighed. A small smile was playing on his lips, but he sighed anyway, just _because_. Victor had promised to be pacing himself at the beginning of the banquet and it was only an hour later that he stumbled over to Yuuri, slurring his name with a thick Russian accent, the r rolling off his tongue in a way that made Yuuri's skin tingle just a little.

He wasn't mad, no. Victor deserved this. If he wanted to drink, he was free to drink, and in the morning Yuuri will be there to pat his back and point out to him with a smile that "I warned you this was going to happen."

Victor's jacket was gone, Yuuri noticed when his fiancé draped himself all over him, but the rest of him was as immaculate as when they'd left their hotel room earlier that night. Something stronger than champagne was sloshing in his glass, colouring his cheeks and tainting his breath. He leaned over Yuuri's back, hugging him loosely from behind, glass pressed to Yuuri's chest to keep from spilling in his unsteady hand.

"Yuuri," Victor whined into the side of Yuuri's neck, breath hot on Yuuri's skin and making a shiver creep up Yuuri's spine. "Why is no one dancing? This party is so boring, let's dance!"

Yuuri, who's been talking to Phichit and Celestino, shot them a look which could just as well mean "I'm so sorry for this," or "please don't comment", or "see what I'm dealing with here, please help". They both smiled at him in amusement, absolutely no help at all.

"He's right, Yuuri," Phichit offered, the best friend he was, and Yuuri glared at him. "This party is boring, go dance with your man."

"Right? Thank you, Phichit!" Victor grinned, but his grin soon disappeared as he frowned, turning to look at Yuuri. "Wait, what man? You have a man, Yuuri? Why didn't I know that?" He gasped, free hand flying up to his mouth. "Are you _che_ –" A hiccup broke his dramatic sentence, but Victor seemed unfazed and continued as if nothing happened. "– _ating_ on me?"

Phichit snickered at that and Victor looked at him, confused and betrayed, beginnings of a pout curling around his mouth. His eyes crossed a little when he stepped away from Yuuri. Yuuri didn't give him a chance to pursue the topic, though, taking Victor by the hand.

"You're my man, Victor," he said, a little flush on his cheeks. "My only man, remember?"

He lifted his free hand to remind him of the matching rings sitting proudly on their fingers. Victor's face immediately brightened into a grin.

"Yuuri," he sung, hugging him close. "I love you so much! Marry me!"

Yuuri laughed a little, hugging him back.

"There, there." He patted Victor's back, plucking the glass from his fingers and handing it over to Phichit. "Enough drinking for you tonight."

"Mm, fine," Victor mumbled softly into his shoulder.

"Do you want to go back to our room?" Yuuri asked, trying to peer down at him and blinking instead when his own eyes crossed from looking too close. He wrinkled his nose.

"Nooo..." Victor pushed away from him. "I want to dance! Dance with me, Yuuri!"

He took Yuuri's hands and pulled, pulled, pulled, until Yuuri caved and let him lead him away from Phichit and Celestino.

"Have fun!" Phichit called after them, but Yuuri was too busy making sure that Victor didn't trip over his own legs, or worse, bump into anyone important in his haste.

They stopped in the middle of the room, Victor twirling Yuuri around and Yuuri easily stepped into it. He laughed softly to himself when Victor brought him back into his arms. He was lead in a slow dance he couldn't even name, it was probably just a random mixture of everything and nothing, but when they slowly swayed from side to side, their feet moving in sync even if they weren't looking, Yuuri didn't necessarily care.

"You're not really drunk, are you?" Yuuri said when Victor twirled them around as if they were doing the waltz.

"Ah," Victor smiled, a sheepish, adorable smile that melted Yuuri's heart a little. "Was it that obvious?"

Yuuri smiled back. "You haven't stripped yet, so yeah, a bit."

"I knew I forgot something," Victor mumbled to himself over a hum.

"I'm glad you're not drunk, though," Yuuri said, stepping closer to him and taking the lead right out of Victor's hands. He dipped him down, smiling into the widened, but delighted blue eyes. "This way both of us will remember tonight with no regrets."

Victor laughed, a happy, little laugh that made Yuuri's fingers tingle with warmth.

"Yuuri," he purred. "I never have any regrets when it comes to you."

Yuuri blushed, the warmth spreading from his fingers over his whole body, reaching deep into his chest and setting it alight. They straightened, but before they took up the dancing again, Victor leaned in to steal a kiss – a short, sweet press of lips that ghosted over Yuuri's like a promise of forever.

And Yuuri flushed, and smiled, and danced his man all over the banquet hall, drunk on air, happiness and love, because no alcohol could ever give him what Victor had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ADORE THEM THEY'RE SO SOFT AND BEAUTIFUL AND I JUST WANT TO S C R E A M


	37. little things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's many little things Victor loves. And then there's that one big thing, too.

There were many little things that made Victor happy.

For one, there was the soft pitter-patter of Makkachin's paws on the wooden floors of his flat when Victor came back home. There was Yuuri's rough, grumbling voice in the early mornings when Victor woke him up with soft, sweet kisses. There was walking home from practice with Yuuri's hand holding his inside of Victor's pocket, fingers curled around Yuuri's cold ones in a futile effort to share his warmth. There was also Yuuri's toothbrush, sitting next to Victor's own, and the blue towel next to his own, and the additional robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, and the new pair of slippers by the entrance, and the–

–coffee machine beeped and Victor turned it off mechanically, taking the jug and pouring hot liquid into the two cups, lined side by side on the counter. He barely put them on the table, next to two identical plates of scrambled eggs and toast, when Yuuri walked in. Hair tousled, eyes teary, mouth stretched over a yawn – he looked adorable and Victor couldn't help but hug him.

"Good morning," Yuuri mumbled into Victor's shoulder, his arms wrapping around Victor's waist to return the hug.

"Good morning, Yuuri! Did you sleep well?" Victor crooned at him and Yuuri only smiled a tiny, indulgent smile, nodding.

They were used to this. To early mornings and Victor's enthusiasm, to Yuuri's silence and mumbling and sleepy sighs.

Victor pressed a kiss to Yuuri's temple and Yuuri pulled a back slightly and lifted his hands to cup Victor's face, and this, too, they were used to. Yuuri pulled Victor's head down, down, down, until Victor was staring at their feet while a lovely kiss was pressed to the crown of his head.

Victor grinned to himself, a bit abashed, but a bit happy as well.

"Is it thinning?" he asked while Yuuri nuzzled his nose against Victor's hair right where he kissed it. Victor's heart fluttered in his chest like a tiny butterfly.

"Not yet," Yuuri replied. "The charm keeps working."

The charm, Yuuri's sweet kiss to keep Victor's hair thick and beautiful, renewed every morning for additional strength. Victor's grin widened as he finally lifted his head to look into Yuuri's warm eyes.

"Thank you," he kissed Yuuri softly and Yuuri kissed him back, before making a beeline for the coffee mug Victor had prepared for him.

Victor smiled and waited until Yuuri's eyes closed and a sigh escaped his parted lips. His shoulders dropped, visibly relaxed as he sipped on the hot beverage, and Victor's smile softened, glad. He slipped into his seat at the table, buttering his toast and digging into the eggs, while Yuuri nursed his coffee for a moment longer, sighing as the warmth worked its magic.

And when he finally put the cup down, it was the cue Victor has been waiting for.

"So I was thinking we should start choreographing your short program today," Victor said while Yuuri took the first bite of his toast. "We have the music ready so there's no point in waiting. I even have some ideas to bounce off of you."

Yuuri hummed. "Sounds good."

"And then we can take Makkachin to the park in the afternoon," Victor continued, smiling over a mouthful of eggs and giving a piece of his bread to the hungry face resting on his knee. Makka munched on it happily before leaving his side to go to beg for scraps from Yuuri. "There's this ice cream place there and Makka just loves their scones."

"You're so spoiled, aren't you, Makkachin?" Yuuri asked, rubbing Makka's head with a tiny affectionate smile. "He spoils us both so much, yes, he does, mister sweet face, yes, he does."

Yuuri cooed at the dog while Makkachin's tail beat happily on the leg of Victor's chair all the while trying to climb up Yuuri's lap to lick at his face. Victor chuckled, eyes fond.

"Only the best for my precious boys," he returned, noticing how Yuuri's cheeks turned just a little bit pinker.

They returned to eating. Makkachin crawled under the table and plopped down right on top of their feet, a furry, warm blanket. The sun was barely up, peaking through the curtains of the kitchen windows and the big clock over the fridge was ticking loud in the peaceful silence of their breakfast routine.

Yuuri ran out of toast before he could finish his eggs and without a word Victor passed him one of his own, receiving a smile in return.

There were many little things that made Victor happy, like the feeling of soft fur under his toes and Makkachin's tongue licking at his ankle when he tried to clumsily pet him with his foot, or the tender, thankful kiss Yuuri pressed to Victor's cheek after he'd finished eating; but among those little things there were also the big ones, the _I love yous_ whispered into his lips and all the _hellos_ and _goodbyes_ and _goodnights_ and _welcome backs_...

Yet out of all of them the biggest and the best by far was Yuuri – just himself, as he was, warm, caring, and _there_. And Victor was positive that that would never change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vitya's concerns about his hairline are so precious I couldn't help myself uwu


	38. couple shirts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is a man with taste and Yuuri can only submit to his choices. Or can he?

"You are not wearing that tie," Victor said as soon as Yuuri stepped out into the living room.

Stopping in his tracks, Yuuri looked down at himself, confused. "What's wrong with it?"

"What isn't," Victor replied with a sigh, his lips curled unhappily.

He quickly stepped out of his shoes and strode over purposefully, eyes locked on the offensive garment. Nimble fingers made a quick work of untying the knot under Yuuri's chin – he spent a good fifteen minutes trying to get it right, _goddamnit_ – and with a snap slid the offensive piece of material from under his collar.

Victor smiled then, charming and lovely and perfect, and adoringly tapped a finger on Yuuri's chin while Yuuri could only stare.

"I'll be right back," Victor sang and disappeared inside their bedroom.

Yuuri sighed, a tiny affectionate smile on his lips. It was just a stupid tie, why was it so important? No one would even care about it.

No one except Victor.

If Yuuri remembered right, back in Hasetsu when he attended the press conference to present his theme for the season Victor complained about his _atrocious_ tie and then _burned the thing_ when Yuuri wasn't watching.

Yuuri fondly rolled his eyes at the memory. Victor was always so dramatic... but somehow Yuuri had come to like even that side of him.

A small, incredulous smile crept onto his face and he shook his head. He was doomed right from the start, wasn't he?

Victor chose that moment to return with a box in his hand, opening it on the way and pulling out a royal blue tie: dark, silky and elegant.

"Did you have this planned?" Yuuri asked, narrowing his eyes at the twinkle in Victor's eyes.

He obediently lifted his chin up, guided by Victor's gentle fingers.

"Maybe," Victor winked at him. He stood up Yuuri's collar and put the tie around his neck, setting it down to work on the knot. "You really have no taste when it comes to ties, my love. I thought it'd be better to be prepared, just in case."

Yuuri snorted a little at that. "Says the man with a pink Cadillac."

Victor didn't even bat an eye. "Says the man who is your date _and_ future husband."

Finding no witty response to that and feeling the blood rush to his face starting at the word date, and blooming further at by the end of the sentence, Yuuri looked up at the ceiling, unable to look anywhere even remotely in his future _husband's_ direction. His heart hammered ridiculously in his chest and he cleared his throat, trying his hardest to control the warmth that was making his body uncomfortable in the restrictive suit, but Victor was close, too close, breathing down his face and smiling softly and Yuuri was working himself up into–

Victor chuckled, done with the knot, and straightened Yuuri's collar. His fingers brushed against the skin of Yuuri's neck, gentle and teasing. By the playful quirk of his mouth, Yuuri knew Victor could feel his quickened pulse right on his fingertips as he trailed them down his throat.

Yuuri swallowed when Victor leaned closer. A hand ran down the length of the tie, settling in the middle of his stomach, warm and real and grounding.

And then Victor's lips were on Yuuri's, soft and pampered and tasting of vanilla, but the kiss was too short for Yuuri to truly enjoy it. Barely a peck, only enough to touch, but not enough to feel and get lost in.

Victor grinned when he pulled back.

"Now we match," he said.

And they did.

Victor's tie was a dark magenta, the colour opposite of Yuuri's royal blue. Any normal person wouldn't call that a match, but to them the contrast meant something – something subtle, but beautiful and long-lasting, a plea and a promise of _Stammi Vicino_.

It felt a little silly, a little over the top, but that was who Victor was, and no matter what Yuuri would always take him wholly: the silly and the drama, the sadness and the pain, the past and the future.

Yuuri couldn't deny the tender adoration in his gaze as their eyes met.

"What's next?" he asked, soft amusement in his voice. "Couple shirts?"

Victor's eyes lit up brighter than the sun and Yuuri laughed, shaking his head.

"Victor, no," he warned over his laughter. They moved to the shoe cupboard and slowly put theirs on. "I am not wearing any of those, they're embarrassing."

"But, Yuuri–"

The door closed behind them, leaving the apartment in complete silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help to imagine this was how they were getting ready for some important dinner with some sponsors or whatever MATCHING COUPLE TIES YALL  
> makka is with a sitter //wink wonk


	39. spotlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri is smooth and Victor swoons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls imagine [this official art](http://68.media.tumblr.com/41bc3baa3378ab469886e75093cc4c7b/tumblr_om0xo6uLwB1qfzlwxo1_500.jpg) while reading ;3c

Cameras blinded them as soon as they stepped off the ice after their exhibition performance.

Almost on instinct, they shifted closer to each other. Smile ready on his lips, Victor leaned into Yuuri, who didn't need to be told twice. In a second, there was a strong arm around Victor's waist, keeping him firmly in place, tighter than it usually would, and Victor had found himself meekly giving into it. Yuuri's fingers dug into his hip, but it didn't feel constricting. In fact, it felt claiming, protective, encouraging...

Victor twisted into Yuuri, pressing their chests together and slinging his own arm around Yuuri's shoulder, a perfect camera-ready grin on his face. Yuuri's hold tightened to accommodate the shift in Victor's position, harmony in his every move.

It felt good.

"Yuuri! Victor! Look this way!"

Better than good.

They turned: smiles on their faces, warmth of their bodies pressed together, cheeks flushed – from skating, and the rest. Cameras flashed.

A burn of something warm and uncontrollable was starting in Victor's chest every time Yuuri's fingers moved on his hip, touch hot even over the fabric of his costume pants. The bouquets of flowers Victor was holding up with one hand smelled deliriously sweet, filling his lungs and making his head spin.

With a sigh, he leaned his cheek on Yuuri's. Both of their faces were hot and sweaty, but it was nice, in that intimate moment of closeness after a performance where nothing seemed real just yet and the energy was still buzzing as the entire world stopped breathless for a second. Yuuri's heart was still hammering in his chest, the shallow beat Victor could feel where they were pressed into each other. His own echoed it in a low hum, like a part of a duet, their duet.

"Yuuri, do you think we can get singles of you and Victor?" one of the photographers asked and Victor was already pulling away when Yuuri's arm tightened around him, keeping him firmly at his side.

"Sorry," Yuuri said to the camera guy, a polite smile on his face. "It was a joint performance. You're getting us both or neither."

Stunned into silence by the declaration that carried much more than simple recognition of Victor's part in their exhibition piece, Victor's heart jumpstarted, pumping blood straight to his face. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to Yuuri's gross cheek.  

"It's alright to take the spotlight sometimes, you know," he said, fondness clear in his voice.

Yuuri turned to him, face glowing with inner strength and eyes as full of love as they were back on the ice. "There is no spotlight for me without you in it, Victor."

Heart in his throat, Victor almost choked on the incredulous laughter that bubbled out of his mouth. Sweet burn of affection warmed his limbs, tingling across the skin like a feather-light caress. Trust Yuuri to say something so smooth, so irresistible, so absolutely charming in front of the cameras, while in private he was a blushing, nervous mess. God, Victor adored him, all sides of him.

Not even thinking about what he was doing, he leaned closer and kissed the tip of Yuuri's nose. Camera shutters went off like crazy, but Victor couldn't care less at the moment. Yuuri's nose wrinkled adorably and he looked up at him with unvoiced questions filling his eyes. Victor only smiled, unable to answer them except for–

"I adore you, Yuuri Katsuki," he whispered, quiet enough not to be overheard. "You've no idea what you're doing to my heart."

Yuuri's cheeks reddened at that, eyes half-closing at the audible pleasure in Victor's voice.

"I think I might have some idea," Yuuri replied, a tiny smirk curled around the corner of his mouth, and Victor was truly, honestly, _gone_. "You're doing the same to me."

The cameras never stopped clicking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys guys!!!! pls go check out my other yoi fics but in particular ['to keep you warm'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10842828) for which [@maniacani](http://maniacani.tumblr.com/) drew some stunning art!!!! I cannot scream enough about it ahhhhh //flops around


	40. warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri was not prepared for St. Petersburg, but thankfully Victor's got him.

Yuuri was used to the cold. He was a figure skater, so half of his life he'd spent in a rink and he could confidently say that a little cold never really bothered him. Even winters with heavy snowfall weren't a problem. He never really paid much attention to it, frankly. Cold was just something that tingled across his skin for a second, made a shiver run down his spine and urged him to huddle deeper into his coat, and disappeared as soon as his mind moved on because it wasn't significant enough to linger on.

Cold in St. Petersburg though, now that was a different matter altogether.

His fingers were numb. Not only numb, but red and stinging so badly it made him wince, so he was forced to keep his hands stuffed in his pockets. It helped, just a little, but the stinging of the cold seeping out of his flesh was almost worse.  

His eyelashes were frozen, too. Frost gathered on the fine hairs, heavy when he blinked and sparkling when light caught on it, somewhat pretty, but just as annoying.

What he hated most, however, was the fog of his breath that froze as soon as it left his mouth. It left a crust of icicles around his lips: constricting, uncomfortable, _cold_. But more than that, the treacherous breath – which he tried to keep in his scarf for just a scrap of warmth – steamed up his glasses and then _froze on them_ like it was winter's personal agenda to make Yuuri as blind as a bat.

And it did a good job on that, because Yuuri couldn't see _a thing_.

He wished he could lift his hand up and wipe his glasses so he could actually see _something_ , but that would mean pulling his hand out of his pocket where it was warm. Not to mention how it would be all the same in a matter of seconds, as soon as he breathed again, and he would be stuck doing clean up over and over and over...

Really, Yuuri wasn't prepared for moving to St. Petersburg meant, and he was just as unprepared for the–

"Cold?" Victor asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into his side.

Yuuri looked up to see the small curve around his mouth, soft and perfectly happy, blue eyes smiling down at him. Victor looked fine. He looked comfortable. He looked completely at ease and _warm_.

Yuuri honestly felt like sulking.

"Are you reading my mind now?" he asked back and Victor laughed.

It was a pleasant sound, it always was. Bright and light, sending small fireworks scattering across the expanse of Yuuri's chest. Happy Victor was such a beautiful sight. Yuuri had often seen him smile, but there was just something special in the knowledge that Victor was laughing _because of him_ , for him, with him... Yuuri couldn't name it, but the feeling spreading over his knuckles was a thing he didn't want to let go of. Ever.

"I wish I could," Victor admitted. "But for now I just noticed your shivering and sniffling. Should we head back home?"

Yuuri snuggled deeper into Victor's side, nodding his head, "Sorry. I didn't think it'd be so cold today. I should've dressed warmer."

Victor stopped in place, bringing Yuuri to stand right before him. He quickly took off his own scarf and tied it around Yuuri's head and neck, it was long enough. Fondly exasperated, Yuuri looked up at Victor's smiling face though the tiny crack for the eyes that was left in the fabric. It covered his wholly and make him feel like a silly snowman – he knew he looked like one.

"Warmer now?" Victor asked and Yuuri opened his mouth only to realize his mouth was now covered in a layer of fabric too.

He pulled the material down a little, ignoring the sting of cold on his hand. "What about you, aren't you cold?"

"I'm used to this, it isn't that bad yet," Victor replied, shrugging. "And it should get warm really fast! We're by the sea, so it's always better than the rest of the country. We're quite lucky, to be honest."

"If this is lucky then I don't really want to know the rest," Yuuri shivered.

"Aw," Victor made a kicked puppy face, but grinned almost immediately. "Isn't it the best incentive for cuddles, though?"

Yuuri smiled a little and let the scarf cover his mouth again. "Am I getting cuddles when we get back, then?"

Victor took his hand, wrapping his fingers around Yuuri's cold ones, and lifting it up to his mouth. The kiss he pressed to them was searing hot, his breath almost burning, but Yuuri wasn't one to complain.

"Cuddles, and kisses, a hot bath, and a pet and a fiancé to sleep with," Victor agreed. "Sounds good?"

Yuuri hummed. "Sounds like a dream come true."

Victor's smile was soft and affectionate, lovely in the winterscape, when he brought Yuuri's hand to his lips once more.

They walked back home, with the snowflakes falling slowly around them like cherry blossoms and the white spreading from the sky to the ground. Winter looked stunning on Victor, and for that, if not anything else, Yuuri was ready to freeze his fingers, his eyelashes, and give up his sight, because one look from Victor was melting away the cold and warming up Yuuri's heart in ways that no heater ever could.

He bumped his shoulder into Victor's lightly and Victor smiled down at him. Yuuri lowered his eyes, staring at the pavement as they walked. He smiled secretly into the borrowed scarf.

Finally, he was warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's finally warm enough here to bring out summer dresses so here was the final remnant of winter, I hope yall enjoyed it~
> 
> also, make sure to check out my other yoi fics!


	41. swing, baby, swing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri finds a certain box, Victor panics, and Chris... well, Chris is The Friend™.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mentions of sex related things below uwu

"Victor?"

"Yes, love?"

"What exactly is this?"

Victor blinked, lifting his gaze from the fashion magazine he was idly flipping through to look at Yuuri. In his hands was a box, neatly wrapped in a festive, _happy birthday_ paper that Victor had just remembered with a startled gasp. He launched himself off the couch, snatching it from Yuuri's hands and taking it as far away from his fiancé as he could in a teetering panic.

"Um." He smiled, completely unconvincingly judging by Yuuri's stare. "This is nothing. Don't worry about it. It's just some old stuff I got for my birthday."

He tried to laugh it off, the sound strained and fake. He was about to carry the box safely back to the bedroom and lock it on the highest shelf of the wardrobe, far in the darkest of corners, when he noticed it was already missing the lid. And right on top of the tangled, black stripes that thankfully looked unrecognizable sat another box – this one proudly proclaiming: Sasha the Love Doll.

Victor swallowed.

Heart hammering against his ribcage he turned to Yuuri wide-eyed.

"This isn't what you think it is," he quickly said.

"You don't even know what I think," Yuuri simply said, coming to sit on the couch that Victor freed in his wild lunge for the box.

Victor could feel the cold sweat gather on the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, but his voice was nowhere to be found. Carefully setting down the box on the small coffee table, Victor sat next to Yuuri, for the first time really, actually, _terrifyingly_ nervous.

"Look, Yuuri," he started. "This was just Chris' stupid joke, okay? I swear I'm not really into stuff like that, I–"

"Oh, you're not?" Yuuri asked, his voice disappointed. "That's a shame."

Victor stared. Breathless and stunned, he stared, until Yuuri tilted his head and Victor spotted the teasing grin on his fiancé's face.

"Yuuri!" he gasped. "How could you play me like that? I thought this was a serious problem, you know!"

Relief called out an incredulous laughter from Victor's chest and when Yuuri joined him, chuckling lightly, Victor couldn't really be mad at him anymore. Yuuri took his hand, their fingers twining like they always did, finding the spaces they belonged in on autopilot.

Yuuri's cheeks were slightly pinked, but he was smiling and there was that subtle, mischievous twinkle in his eye that Victor knew he'd never get tired of seeing. Even if it was at his own expense.

"It's alright," Yuuri told him. "I got a dildo from Chris once."

Victor's mouth opened in silent surprise. Leave it to Chris to send all his friends sex toys for their birthdays. He snorted another laugh.

"So what's in the box?" Yuuri asked, nudging his chin towards it. "Apart from the doll."

Victor's brain froze for a moment. "Wait, I thought you were... kidding?"

Yuuri's blush deepened and his eyes flitted to the side briefly before they returned to Victor's face.

"Not really," he admitted. And then rushed to add: "But only if you're comfortable with that, it's okay if you're not!"

Victor felt his own face heat up, and he didn't know whether from embarrassment or excitement, but whatever it was, it didn't stop him from eagerly leaning into Yuuri's personal space, breath on his lips and sparkle in his eye.

"You'd want to try?"

Yuuri nodded, with a small, shy smile encouraging Victor to go on.

Victor took a moment to compose himself, because all he wanted to do was jump for joy, or jump Yuuri, probably both.

And then he began.

"Okay, so this here is a sex swing and–"

Victor had to thank Chris later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok but like imagine victor and yuuri trying the sex swing out, just _i m a g i n e_ ;3c


	42. glasses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Victor is a thief and Yuuri a manipulator.

Yuuri was 24 when Victor first stole his glasses. He plucked them off his nose, careful fingers and silly grin, and Yuuri wanted to roll his eyes at the antics. It was such a good-eyesight-people thing to do, but it was also Victor, so Yuuri couldn't really bring himself to be mad.

"How much can you see without those anyway?" Victor asked, looking at Yuuri through the lenses. His eyes seemed much bigger than normal and a corner of Yuuri's mouth twitched in an effort to hold back a smile that threatened to ruin his frown. "I always wondered. You skate without glasses and you refuse to wear contacts, so it's can't be that bad, right? Can you see me?"

"Sure," Yuuri replied. "I'm not blind you know. It doesn't work that way."

"How does it work then?" Victor dropped the glasses on his own nose, pulling them down to peer at Yuuri over the blue rim.

It was unfair how good he looked in them. Blue suited his eyes and the light hair, bringing out more elegance than Yuuri has ever seen in his square frames. And on top of that the thought of Victor wearing _his_ glasses made something hot coil in Yuuri's chest, pressing on his lungs until his breath left him in a soft whoosh.

"You're just a little blurry," he mumbled. "Nothing crazy."

He wasn't sure if he should be glad for it or upset, because on one hand he couldn't see the details, just general shapes and colours, but on the other... his imagination supplied what his eyes couldn't see, and Yuuri knew he couldn't trust it when it came to Victor.

"Now give them back."

He stretched out a hand for Victor to place the glasses in it, but Victor being Victor, he bypassed it and slipped the frames right onto Yuuri's nose, taking his chance to press a kiss to Yuuri's lips.

"If a day comes when you can't see then I'll be your eyes," Victor vowed, smiling, and Yuuri couldn't help himself. He snorted, taking Victor's face in his hands and kissing him back.

"My saviour," he joked, but the pleased look on Victor's face was too good to point it out.

Years have passed faster than either of them wanted and Yuuri, at the ripe age of forty-seven, still remembered that moment. Blearily, under the veil of other memories, but he did.

From that time, many things have changed. His glasses, for one. Now he was wearing slim, elegant, silver frames, which were a gift from Victor after he accidentally sat on Yuuri's previous pair.

Yuuri's eyesight was worse, too. He could barely see any shapes without help, they all blurred into a mess of colour. His hair was greying at the temples as well, slowly, but surely. A wrinkle here, a wrinkle there appeared on his face and body. Even his joints swell from time to time, so much that on certain days he couldn't even push his wedding ring through his gnarly knuckle.

But even despite these changes, other things stayed the same. No matter what.

Victor snatched Yuuri's glasses off his face and put them on, eyebrows drawn, as he refocused on the label of the can of dried tomatoes he was trying to read. Yuuri made a soft sound of protest when his vision suddenly blurred.

"Hey," he scowled lightly. "Don't use my glasses for that, get your own."

At fifty-one Victor was just as beautiful as he was before. His hair a delightful silver, his eyes bright and kind. Laughing wrinkles were prominent on his face, and a constant source of Victor's sour moods, but Yuuri loved them and took every chance to press kisses to each: on the side of Victor's mouth, in the crinkle of his eyes, a little dimple in the cheek that started showing sometime after Victor turned thirty.

"I don't need glasses Yuuri," Victor waved a hand, squinting at the small letters because he _clearly needed glasses_ and Yuuri's weren't doing the best of jobs. "The letters are just too tiny."

Yuuri grinned to himself, humming. "You've been saying that for a year now. You're not a young man anymore, Vitya. If you need help, you need help. There's nothing wrong with that."

He couldn't see Victor pouting, but he knew him enough to know he was.

"And by the way," Yuuri continued, a small, sly smile curling around his mouth. "Men in glasses are hot, didn't you know?"

Victor said nothing about it, but a few days later Yuuri noticed a pair of slick, blue frames resting on Victor's nightstand and he bit back a smile.

The first time Yuuri saw him wear them, he kissed Victor's temple and nose and his lips until reading was forgotten and a new pair of glasses was biting into the skin of his cheek as they cuddled on the couch. Because he hadn't lied before – men in glasses were hot. And Victor was the hottest of them all.

Even at fifty one, and counting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean... who _hasn't_ thought about vitya in glasses right ;3c


	43. most favourite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is _so_ in love.

If Victor had to pick just one of all the things he loved in Yuuri, he would honestly be unable to do it. But then, if someone asked him to – depending on his mood and wildly unpredictable feelings – align them from the one making his heart flutter the most on a certain day, he would be able to come to a semblance of a decision.

From between Yuuri's smile, his eyes, his laugh, the way he wrinkled his nose when Victor kissed the tip of it, the sound of his groans when it was still too early to get up, his kindness, his gentleness, his softly spoken demeanour, his burning and violent anger, his tendency to snub Victor out when they bickered, his hair, his thighs, his hands that held Victor's with careful attention, his friendliness and openness; if someone asked what Victor swooned over the most that very day, he could say with ease – all of it, but Yuuri's hair _the most_.

"Don't move," Victor chided when Yuuri shifted again, pulling a strand of hair right out of Victor's hand.

"Sorry, sorry," Yuuri chuckled quietly. "My legs are falling asleep. You're taking awfully long today."

Victor pursed his lips in a tiny pout, which Yuuri couldn't see since his back was turned to Victor, and used a small comb to brush through black hair even slower, taking immense delight in the way it felt on his palm – soft and light, like angel feathers.

"Just let me have this, Yuuri," Victor said. "Your hair is so nice."

To make his point he put his fingers in it, letting his nails gently scrape over Yuuri's scalp. It drew a sigh from Yuuri's lips and a corner of Victor's mouth quirked in satisfaction.

"Can I at least change my position?" Yuuri asked, giving up on denying him.

Victor huffed, impatient. "Fine. But I'm not letting you go anytime soon, so you better make yourself as comfortable as possible."

Yuuri moved from his knees to sit directly on the floor, smiling at Victor over his shoulder. "I never asked you to let me go, did I?"

He crossed his legs, rubbing at his calves a bit to get the blood flowing again, before he looked up at Victor who was perched on the edge of the bed. Yuuri patted the small space behind himself and Victor grinned at the unvoiced invitation, slipping down to sit with Yuuri on the floor. His knees brushed against Yuuri's thighs and Yuuri's back was warm and broad, almost touching Victor's chest when he breathed.

Victor couldn't help it.

He let go of Yuuri's hair completely and wrapped his arms around Yuuri's waist. Yuuri twitched in surprise, but Victor only held him closer and pressed his cheek to Yuuri's soft, wonderful hair when Yuuri relaxed into the hug. Warm hands rested on Victor's and more of Yuuri's weight leaned against him, but Victor took it gladly with a kiss to Yuuri's jaw. It made Yuuri huff a small laugh, barely a breath of it, and yet the sweet sound broke an unknown well of affection in Victor's heart, and he _squeezed_.

And nuzzled his cheek against Yuuri's head.

And left kisses wherever he could: the jaw, the neck, the cheek, the shoulder.

"Stop, stop! Victor, please!" Yuuri's startled laughter was precious and warm and his skin flushed under the dimmed lights of the room.

"Never," Victor replied, grinning. "I always want to hear you laugh like this."

Yuuri's blush deepened and he squirmed as Victor continued kissing him all over until he finally gave in and let him have his way. Victor didn't miss the chance given to him, and when Yuuri tilted his head slightly to the side, he leaned over, pressing himself firmly against Yuuri's back, and caught Yuuri's lips in a quick, soft kiss.

It left Yuuri's eyes pleasantly warm and glazed, an expression so sweet Victor's mouth grinned off its own volition. Yuuri opened his mouth, blushed, closed it, lowered his eyes and then, in a small voice, asked:

"Didn't you want to keep playing with my hair?"

"I want to keep playing with all of you, Yuuri," Victor crooned, nuzzling his nose against Yuuri's cheek.

He was about to start pressing kisses to his beautifully flushed skin again, when he suddenly got struck true by what exactly it was that he'd said and he pulled back to gaze into Yuuri's eyes with utter seriousness.

"Except for your heart," he added. "That's one thing I will never _ever_ play with. I promise."

Yuuri looked at him for a moment, simply looked at him, eyes considering, but warm, and then he nodded. And smiled. And pressed a tiny kiss to the corner of Victor's mouth.

"I know," he said. "I trust you."

And if Victor squeezed him a little too tight after that, neither of them mentioned it. They hugged for a moment longer, Victor's chin on Yuuri's shoulder, his face thrust in Yuuri's neck, his arms around Yuuri and Yuuri's hands on his, until Yuuri bumped his cheek on Victor's head softly.

"Get back to what you've been doing before or we're going to sleep," he said.

Victor smirked a little. "Ah, could it be you miss my hands in your hair, Yuuri?"

In the dim light it was hard to see, but Victor would swear Yuuri's cheeks were darker than a second before. He needn't have voiced his answer, Victor already knew what it was. He chuckled.

"I'm always happy to spoil you, my love," he crooned, and before Yuuri could say anything back, his hands were back in soft, dark locks.

Yuuri melted against him with a small sigh that made Victor smile secretly to himself. He loved Yuuri's hair, and he loved Yuuri's blushes, and he loved Yuuri's sighs, and his shy side, his teasing side, his confident side, but most of all – he loved Yuuri himself, and that was always his most favourite part.

Every day, every week, every month. For the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love vitya in love //sobs he never fails to melt my heart what a good boy


	44. goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for some reason I was thinking of my previous doge today and this is what came out of it... I honestly cried the whole time while writing it and I know it's not the best writing-wise but I just needed to get it out somehow
> 
> sorry for the pain
> 
> WARNING: character death (makkachin)

They took him away in a black zip bag; carried the deadweight down the stairs on a spare blanket that neither of them could care about losing at the moment, and they watched in silence how they stuffed him into the back of the van like it was nothing.

The bag hit the bottom with a loud thud, so deafening in the silence of the night.

And then they were alone.

They stood there, on the street, in their slippers, still, and followed the van with their eyes until it was out of sight. They stood there for a while longer, waiting, maybe. For what, Yuuri wasn't sure. He couldn't say. Everything... all of it... it felt anticlimactic.

He wondered if this was how it was for Mari as well, but then he remembered her shaky voice telling him what happened in stunted sentences and no, it couldn't have been like this. Vicchan had gone with a bang. An accident, blood, pain, tears. He passed on in a way as vivid as he had lived.

This, today, it was almost peaceful. They ate dinner, cuddled, brushed Makkachin's greyish fur so it was clean and nice. For what? Just because. It was part of the routine they'd kept to for so long, they couldn't break it.

When the vet came, Makka's tail was still wagging just like Yuuri remembered it doing the first time they'd met. A little less enthusiastically maybe, but still alive and happy and well.

All it took was a second, really. It was too fast. They didn't even get to say all the things they wanted to say, nuzzle Makka's cheeks and scratch behind his ears and–

The vet put him to sleep with one shot.

Five minutes later she took his life with another.

He didn't want to go, a soft bark through sleep told them. For just a moment his heart was still fighting to stay and Yuuri bit his lips when they started trembling.

They knew it was time, though. They didn't want him to suffer, or maybe they didn't want to watch him suffer, it could've been both. Either. He wasn't sure. He took Victor's hand then, the one that wasn't shaking as it stroked Makka's fur to set him at peace one last time, and squeezed. Sometimes loving someone was simply knowing the right moment to let them go. And this was theirs.

Yuuri took Victor's hand again as they continued to stand on the empty street, night sky above their heads twinkling with stars that brought no light to their darkness. Victor's fingers were cold, so cold, and Yuuri's hand shook slightly as well.

"We should go back inside," he said softly.

Victor went willingly, pulled by Yuuri. He didn't cry. He didn't say anything either. He was just quiet, subdued, and Yuuri couldn't blame him. It was not what he expected, though. He was prepared for tears, for anger, for guilt, maybe despair. Victor has always been expressive with his feelings, so it was only logical that a loss this big would call for a reaction just as violent.

But this, this wasn't the Victor Yuuri had been expecting. And yet it was the Victor he got: a deeply hurt, almost broken to the point of confusion Victor that desperately needed his help. What he could offer him though, Yuuri didn't know. He couldn't think. Not of anything to help Victor, to make him comfortable, not of anything, really.

They took turns in the shower. Yuuri was done first and waited for Victor in their bed, now far too big for just the two of them. They settled in, close to each other, but the unspoken weight of Makkachin was missing from the foot of the bed and they both knew it. Yuuri's throat was tight, but he refused to cry. He had to be strong, be there for Victor.

But Victor was asleep before he knew it, and watching his face, tight and lonely even in his sleep, Yuuri let a single tear slip down his cheek. He rolled over and pulled Victor closer, kissing the top of his head. His mind was abuzz and breathing was a little bit hard, but somehow he slipped into sleep as well, lulled by Victor's steady heartbeat underneath his palm.

The tears he'd expected all along came in the morning. They got up for their morning run as if on autopilot and Victor reached out for Makkachin's leash automatically before he froze. Fingers pulling on the soft leather, his eyes watered and Yuuri was there just in time to catch him when he slid down to his knees, choking on a sob.

On the floor right before their door, cradling the worn-out leash, Victor cried his last goodbye. And Yuuri cried with him, because he never got to say his, but maybe now, maybe Makkachin could do it for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still crying tbh ;u;


	45. snowflake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor loses his ring, but replaces it before Yuuri can find out. Yuuri finds out anyway.

"Victor."

Victor startled so badly at the harsh use of his full name that the dish soap bottle he was holding slipped out of his foamy hand. It promptly crashed into the sink and with a colourful curse Victor jumped back to avoid the water that splashed everywhere. Breathing in relief, he thanked all the gods for keeping his shirt safe and sound before he remembered what startled him in the first place.

When he finally turned to Yuuri, already slightly unnerved, it didn't help to see him holding Victor's wedding band, which Victor had taken off only minutes before he began doing the dishes.

"Something wrong?" Victor asked, smiling, and trying really hard to seem natural about it. Meanwhile, his heart thumped against his ribcage a mile an hour and he could feel himself sweat even with the cooling breeze coming from the kitchen window.

Either he was out of practice, or Yuuri had gotten too good at seeing through his fake smiles, because he didn't even blink, staring straight at Victor as if he was saying, "Do not bullshit me, Victor Nikiforov, I know what you did."

Yuuri did not say that, though. Instead, he twirled the ring in his fingers.

"This isn't the ring I got you." Calm. Collected. Even if his entire face was closed off.

In a single moment, with just one sentence, Victor could feel his entire domestic life slipping through his soap lathered fingers. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out as shame of what he'd done returned to him once again. Grappling for an excuse, apology, _anything_ he could do to salvage the damage, he swallowed.

"Yuuri," he crooned calmingly, mind a complete blank. "Yuuri, sweetheart–"

"Where's the ring, Victor?"

There was nothing in Yuuri's demeanour that proved he was angry, and angry Victor had seen before so he'd know the signs, but the emotionless matter-of-factness was somehow even more grating than the full out anger. Bowing his head as the full weight of the situation settled with him, Victor admitted quietly:

"I lost it."

"You lost it?" Yuuri repeated, voice as blank as his face.

"I– I really didn't mean to," Victor started explaining. "I was washing the dishes, you know, and it was there one moment, and the next it just... I tried to look in the drain, hoped it stopped somewhere on the way down, but it was gone."

He bit his lip, ashamed, and chanced a glance at Yuuri, who was looking at him with something unreadable in his eyes. Victor gathered up his courage to come closer to his terrifyingly still fiancé, who thankfully did not step away.

"I didn't want to upset you, so I got a new ring made. I'm so sorry for not telling you, and even more sorry for losing the one that you gave me. It was so special to me, to _us_... I honestly cried for like an hour after that."

He offered Yuuri a shaky smile, wishing to unload some of the tension hanging in the stale air between them. It smelled like divorce papers, lawyers and cold nights alone in a bed far too big for a single person.

Victor quickly shook his head, resolutely deciding that he would not let it escalate that far. This was nothing they couldn't recover from. He hoped.

"When did you lose it?" Yuuri asked.

"About a month ago," Victor replied, feeling the nervous tingling in his stomach. "But I thought this was the exact replica... How did you know it wasn't the same?"

Yuuri sighed then and pulled off his own ring to show Victor the inside of the band. There, so tiny that Victor had to squint to see it, was an intricate engraving of half a snowflake that Victor could now tell was one part of the whole – the whole that could only be complete with his missing ring. A tiny detail that could be easily missed if someone did not know it was there. And Victor didn't. For all the time he was wearing the ring, he never even once looked at the inside of it. Never touched it. Barely even took it off.

And that was his mistake.

His heart tightened.

"Oh, Yuuri... I'm so sorry."

He took Yuuri's free hand into his without a care of the remnants of soap still on his skin. Yuuri let him do it, curling his fingers lightly around Victor's as if to show he wasn't mad. Victor smiled, a tiny, contrite quirk of his mouth.

"Let's get this engraved tomorrow then?" he offered.

"Alright," Yuuri agreed, and Victor squeezed his hand. "But if it ever happens again, or anything like this, in general... just tell me, Victor. Don't hide things from me. Don't pretend that everything is fine. I'd rather know from you than find out on my own."

Yuuri looked him straight in the eye, serious, and Victor nodded, vowing to himself solemnly that if he could only keep one promise in life, it would be this.

"I'll do my best," he said.

He lifted Yuuri's hand to his lips and kissed the golden band that rested on Yuuri's ring finger. Yuuri smiled at him when he glanced up and relief made Victor's own smile widen. Until–

"Now finish up the dishes, Vitya," Yuuri told him, eyes bright with amusement, but Victor...

Victor grabbed the sides of Yuuri's face in his soapy hands and kissed Yuuri's smiling mouth with a laugh at the squeak of disgust that came from his lovely fiancé.

Not today, he said to the imaginary divorce lawyer in his head, grinning into the kiss that Yuuri did nothing to deny him. Not today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while since I uploaded this but !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALL THE YURI ON MUSEUM STUFF IS SO INSPIRING OH MY GOSH


	46. crow's feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's aging and it's a problem... until it isn't.

Victor is around forty when they first show up, tiny at first, more prominent when he laughs – crow's feet at the edges of his eyes. And, _god_ , Yuuri adores them. They contain the memory of Victor's happiness, the sound of his joy, the life and love that bustles between the two of them years on end and still as charming as the first time he'd fallen in like, first time he'd realized it was love, first time he'd said it out loud.

"You're beautiful," he tells Victor every morning. He means it. Every single time.

Victor gently touches the pads of his fingers to the tender skin around his eyes, massages anti-aging serums and creams into his face before bed, and frowns while trying not to frown in order not to deepen the lines that mar his godly visage after years of being the expressive, loving Victor that Yuuri had come to love with every fibre of his being.

"Really?" Victor asks, more uncertain as the time passes by and the youthful glow of his skin is replaced by wrinkles and pigmentation.

Yuuri only smiles, and kisses his temple, and says, like always:

"There is no one in the entire world I ever found more attractive."

And because Victor is Victor, he calls him out on his flattery, and Yuuri laughs a little since there is truth in Victor's words: Yuuri is biased, he isn't objective, but he is _his_ and the love he has for him is as real as the crow's feet around Victor's eyes, as true as the passage of time imprinted in Victor's skin.

"Am I fat?" Yuuri asks in return.

Victor's hands are resting on Yuuri's hips, right in the place where the big roll of his tummy slides down into the hipbone hidden in the softness of his curves, and he knows the answer is yes. He is. And that is completely alright to admit, but the way Victor's mouth drops open as if he is personally offended by the mere insinuation makes Yuuri's small smile quirk into a full-on grin.

He anticipates what Victor's reply will be, so he beats him to it:

"Then you're beautiful."

"That's different," Victor explains painstakingly, as he does almost every day, and he bites his lip like he wants to add something, but releases it and lets it all go.

He sighs instead, and Yuuri knows that maybe he doesn't understand, maybe he never will since he's never had to deal with the struggles of being beautiful like Victor has, but he knows one thing. And that one thing makes him lift a hand to Victor's cheek.

"It isn't."

Yuuri tilts Victor's chin down. His eyes bathe in the crevices of the face he's loved for the last thirty years of his life and he wishes that Victor could know without being told that no matter how marred by age it becomes, Yuuri will love him until his very last breath.

He tells him anyway. He always will.

The tears that follow are not really a surprise, not anymore. Victor's eyes crinkle, they pearl and glisten in the bright bathroom lights, and Yuuri wipes the wet cheeks with his thumbs while wearing a smile and his tender, honest love on his own face.

"You're beautiful," he repeats.

And Victor simply nods, because he knows, he trusts, he chooses to believe in that which is true: in love, time and time again, however many years come and pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was dicking yesterday and then thought of a smiling vitya and yall... he'd have so many smile lines!! so!!!!! many!!!! bc his life and love might have been ignored for a long while but ever since he's found yuuri he's been laughing his heart out and just gosh!!!! THAT BOY DESERVES TO LAUGH AND SMILE AND AGE INTO A WRINKLY MESS THAT YUURI WOULD KISS EVERY MORNING FOR HIM!!!!  
> //sobs bc they are too sweet and I love them so much it hurts
> 
>  
> 
> also I tried my hand once more at the present tense narration and it still feels weird af ahahah rip


	47. trivia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor Nikiforov trivia. Who would win, who'd lose?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loosely based on the new info from yuri on museum ;3c

"Yuuri, Yuuri, look what I found!"

Victor's excited voice made Yuuri pause the reading of some Russian magazine he was using to practice his Cyrillic on. They were huddled under a blanket together, Yuuri's head on Victor's shoulder and Victor's arm wrapped around him, while Makkachin napped on the other side of the couch. It was comfortable and lazy, and nice, until Victor's voice made them all twitch back into awareness.

Before Yuuri could react in any way, Victor was pushing his phone in his face.

"Look, look! We should do this together, it'll be so much fun!"

Yuuri squinted at the screen until he could read the bold letters of the title.

"Victor Nikiforov trivia? Are you serious?"

"Scared you're going to lose?" Victor teased with a grin, and Yuuri could immediately feel his devoted fan side rear up at the challenge.

"Oh, you're on," he shot back, knowing rather well that there was no question about Victor he couldn't answer. Victor himself might prove to be a fearsome opponent, after all he was _Victor Nikiforov_ , and who could know more about him other than himself, yet somehow Yuuri knew he wouldn't lose. Not at this.  So, confident, he added: "We should make a bet before we start."

"Oh, I like the way you think, Yuuri!"

Victor's eyes shone bright and Yuuri couldn't keep a smile off his face at seeing him this excited. It would be almost worth losing to him. Almost. He wasn't that gracious.

"Should we just agree to name the prize after one of us wins?" Victor asked, thoughtful, and Yuuri easily agreed.

"Whoever wins can make the other do one thing, deal?"

"Deal."

Victor's grin sharpened and then he pushed the start button. The first question loaded and Yuuri almost groaned at how easy it was. _What is Victor Nikiforov's most significant jump?_

"Oh, come on, this isn't a challenge at all! Everyone knows this."

"True," Victor nodded. "Let's hope all the questions aren't like this."

They were right to hope, because the farther in the quiz they got, the more complicated the questions became. And the more Yuuri could show off.

" _What is Victor Nikiforov's favourite sweet?_ " Victor read the question and Yuuri immediately answered, "Chocolate."

"Huh?" Victor blinked at him, slightly confused. "I don't really like chocolate that much? You know that. If I had to pick I'd say apple pie? Maybe?"

"You and your apples," Yuuri smiled fondly. It was overall funny how the Internet clung to things that were not necessarily confirmed. And as Yuuri found out, they rarely had anything to do with the truth. Like Victor liking chocolate, when in fact he would die for apple-flavoured anything. "But chocolate is the correct answer. Check for yourself."

Victor did and as it turned out, Yuuri was right.

"How...?" Victor asked, utterly bewildered.

"There was this one interview after you won your last Junior title and you kept eating chocolates instead of answering questions. That's where it came from. It's quite silly, honestly, but I have to admit I was a bit surprised when I realized you don't like chocolate. We've all been lied to."

Victor simply looked at him with his mouth hanging open. "I don't even remember that interview."

"It's a fan's job to know these things," Yuuri offered him a cheeky grin. And then added, "At the rate we're going, you should probably start to prepare yourself for what I have planned for you when you lose."

"Not fair, Yuuri!" Victor protested. "If that's how you're going to play then we'll do a Yuuri Katsuki trivia later and divide the score in two!"

Pretty certain that he still had it in the bag, Yuuri agreed. An hour later they were going head to head, with Yuuri having won the Victor trivia and Victor kicking his ass left and right at his own.

"Okay, last question," Victor said. "According to Yuuri Katsuki's post Grand Prix Final 2016 interview, Victor Nikiforov is..." Victor read, lips curling up a little, and Yuuri couldn't help his own smile at how cute it made him look. "...a) his inspiration, b) his soulmate, c) his most beloved fiancé, or d) the love of his life."

Yuuri scoffed. "How about e) all of the above?"

"I don't think it works that way, love," Victor chuckled.

"But it's true." Yuuri shrugged with one shoulder since the other was pressed against Victor's side. "I don't really remember what I say in interviews, you know that, but no matter which one you pick it is going to be the right one for me. Even if it's not exactly what they want to hear."

Victor smiled down at him sweetly. "Your soulmate, too?"

Yuuri flushed, only a little embarrassed and mostly just pleased at how happy Victor seemed to be. He did not look away from Victor, just stretched up and pressed his lips to his clean-shaven jaw.

"So what if I think that?" he asked, snuggling into him.

Victor's soft laugh was a delightful puff of warm breath against his forehead and Yuuri closed his eyes to enjoy the moment.

"I think I like that option best as well," Victor admitted.

"Should we see which one is the correct one then?"

Victor hummed, resting his cheek on Yuuri's head, while Yuuri wrapped his free arm around him. Victor stroked the length of it in slow motions, gentle, lazy, adoring.

"Do we really care which one it is?"

Yuuri smiled into Victor's collarbone. "Didn't you want to win?"

"I think we're both winners in this game anyway, don't you?"

It was Yuuri's turn to hum, and once he had, Victor turned his face up with a finger and dipped down to steal a kiss, which Yuuri gladly gave and greedily turned up for one more before he smiled. Because no matter what the quizzes said they were the true winners – in life and love, both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pssst yall should follow me on tumblr [@katzuyas](http://katzuyas.tumblr.com/) bc I'll be doing a smol giveaway soon and you might score some yoi items~


	48. every inch of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding Yuuri in front of a mirror could mean two things and neither one bode well for Victor.

Finding Yuuri in front of a mirror could mean two things and neither one bode well for Victor.

The first one usually ended with them both in bed, or spread across the nearest flat surface where they could kiss each other senselessly. Victor enjoyed that one. Anything that made Yuuri crave his touch and push himself into Victor's arms was a good thing in Victor's book.

But as it was with Yuuri, Victor could never tell which direction the mirror staring would go in. Passionate make outs or–

"Victor," Yuuri asked one day, looking over himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror in their bedroom. He ran his hand over his belly, a small frown of displeasure curled around his lips. "Do you think I'm getting fat?"

If Victor was drinking, he was fairly sure he'd choke. As it was, he only dropped his phone on his face. With a small yelp he sat up, rubbing at where the hard case hit him on the cheek.

"What– What do you mean?"

It was always better to ask. Yuuri's train of thought was unpredictable, after all. He could be talking about something obvious, or so Victor would believe, and the next day it'd turn out they had two completely different conversations. It never failed to confuse Victor, but after months and months of experience he'd finally learned to simply _ask_ and not just assume.

Yuuri bit his lip, rubbing at his belly over his t-shirt.

"I just... I mean... I gained weight, right?" he said slowly. "Do you think I'm getting fat?"

Victor jumped out of the bed. "Not at all!"

He came up to stand behind Yuuri and wrapped his arms around him. Yuuri leaned into the embrace, but he did not stop looking at his midsection in the mirror. Victor kissed his cheek softly, nuzzling against him.

"You look beautiful, Yuuri, there's no need to worry," Victor said. "To me you will always be perfect just the way you are."

"That's not what I asked," Yuuri mumbled, even as his face flushed at the compliments. "Tell me the truth. Am I fat?"

"But that is the truth," Victor insisted.

Yuuri sent him a small glare in the mirror and Victor sighed. Because the truth was, yes, Yuuri had gained weight. Yet the truth also was that he had every right to. They were retired, no longer forced to keep up with the restrictive skating diet, so why did it matter? There was a bit of pudge around Yuuri's hips, a roll or two of fat on his stomach, and a bit more width to his thighs. And Victor _loved_ it.

Especially the full, lovely face of Yuuri's, which he could just leave sweet, gentle smooches on for hours.

"You look delightful, Yuuri," Victor repeated, running his hands over Yuuri's sides. He was soft and cuddly and all that Victor ever wanted. "And the more there is of you, the happier I am. Not that there's anything wrong with it if you want to stay fit. But I have to admit that I quite enjoy having something more to hold onto."

His hands slipped down to Yuuri's ass and squeezed firmly. The full feeling of it always made Victor giddy with excitement. Yuuri only squeaked and swatted at Victor's arm, while a beautiful blush painted his cheeks. He did not tell him to let go, though, and Victor couldn't help his laughter.

"Really," Victor chided in a gentle voice he usually used when talking to Makka. "How did that song on the radio go? Every inch of you is perfect from the bottom to the top?" Yuuri scoffed, but his face cleared with the beginnings of a smile and Victor grinned triumphantly. "My gorgeous Yuuri, you're beautiful no matter how much you weigh. I love you for you, and the more there is of you, the more love I can lavish you in."

"How do you say such embarrassing things all the time," Yuuri mumbled, turning his gaze away from the mirror and Victor's happy eyes as a full blush covered him from the tips of his ears to somewhere below the collar of his t-shirt.

He fidgeted for a moment in Victor's arms, until he rubbed worriedly against his belly once more, taking the big roll of fat in hand and showing it to Victor.

"You really don't mind this?" Yuuri asked, voice somewhat small.

Victor's heart hurt for a second before he decided he was going to lay ruin to Yuuri's self-consciousness once and for all. He laid his hand over Yuuri's and wrapped his fingers around the pudge Yuuri was holding, squeezing it a bit.

"I love it," he announced. "You're so squishy and soft, Yuuri. I adored cuddling with you before, but now I never want to let you go."

He squeezed Yuuri tight with his arms, so tight that Yuuri began squirming and begging him to let go. Reluctantly, Victor did. He took Yuuri's hands instead and pulled him over to the bed.

"How about you let me show you how much I enjoy your body?" he asked with a wink.

Yuuri blushed a deeper red, but crawled into Victor's lap when Victor sat down and pulled him close. There was little weight in Victor's lap and he frowned briefly at the way Yuuri was still holding back on him. Wrapping an arm around Yuuri's waist, he pulled him firmly to sit on his thighs, ignoring Yuuri's small sound of protest.

"Aren't I too heavy?" Yuuri asked.

Victor only shook his head, smiling, "No, you're just right."

And when Yuuri ducked his head, finally appeased, Victor pushed his chin up with a finger and rested a kiss against his sweet lips – one of many that night, that pressed his love into the fat, the muscle, the bones, the living blood of Yuuri's body, because no matter the shape and form Yuuri was Yuuri, and Victor loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not that the piggy thing still bothers me but the piggy thing still bothers me so here is a victor who's sensitive enough not to call anyone names ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	49. the proper way to woo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor does little things because he wants to and Yuuri is only happy to return the favour... once he notices, that is.

Yuuri loved everything about Victor, truly. But there were some things, small, seemingly insignificant things that gave him pause at times. Like Victor opening and holding the door for him everywhere they went. Or Victor paying at any restaurant before Yuuri could even open his mouth to ask for the check. Or Victor letting Yuuri use the shower first after a long day of practice, and then waiting up for him as they got ready for bed and Yuuri wasn't done checking his email.

Maybe others wouldn't have paid it much attention, but Yuuri did. It was nothing a sane person couldn't get used to, quite the opposite in fact, yet for some reason that Yuuri couldn't figure out... it bothered him.

Until one day he did figure it out.

So he opened the door for Victor the next time they came to practice at the St. Petersburg rink. Yuuri caught the widening of Victor's eyes when he held the door to let him enter first. A blush, light and pretty, slowly spread over Victor's cheeks, and Yuuri realized that _ah, this was why_.

When they came back home, Yuuri went into the bathroom first while Victor was busy greeting Makkachin. He drew a bath the way Victor liked it: with scented oils and plenty of bubbles. He then lead Victor in by the hand, ignored all his questions, and stripped him slowly. As soon as Victor was in the bath, Yuuri brushed back his hair and kissed his forehead. He caught Victor's tender smile and a sigh of delight right before he left to prepare dinner.

They ate comfortably, talking, and laughing, and smiling, and feeding each other (and Makkachin) from their plates until all of the food was gone and they started getting sleepy. It was an unspoken rule that whoever made dinner was free of washing the dishes, but when Victor stood up to take care of that, Yuuri only took his hand and kissed the back of it, telling him to go ahead and wait for him on the couch.

Victor bit his lip as if there was something he wanted to say. His eyes followed after Yuuri, but he chose to stay silent.

And so did Yuuri.

After a few hours of cuddling over a semi-interesting movie they made it to bed, Victor slipping under the covers with a yawn and a sigh. Yuuri only paused to change into his pajamas and leave his glasses, his ring and his phone on the nightstand before turning off the lights and settling next to Victor.

They kissed. Light, unhurried, a little tired, but blissful and good.

Victor pulled back first, rolling to lie on his back and covering his face with his hands.

"Okay," he spoke to the ceiling. "Did I forget something? An anniversary or... or a holiday? Is today some sort of Japanese holiday or something?"

Yuuri hummed. "Not that I know of."

Victor was quiet for a moment, thinking of anything he could've missed and Yuuri smiled a little to himself. It was funny, on one hand, to see Victor so confused over these simple gestures of kindness Yuuri's showered him with all day, but on the other hand, something in Yuuri hurt to see it, because it clearly told him that he didn't do it often enough for Victor to recognize it for what it was.

"What... What is it then?" Victor asked, a curious note to his voice.

Yuuri shifted on the bed, rising up on his elbow to easier look into Victor's eyes. He couldn't see much thanks to the darkness and his bad eyesight, but he hoped that Victor could see the sincerity in his gaze.

"You always do these things for me, did you not notice?" he asked. And then explained: "You pay for dinner whenever we go out, you open the doors for me, you always let me shower first, and even when we get to bed and you're falling asleep standing, you still wait up for me."

Victor was opening his mouth, but Yuuri put a finger to his lips.

"You do so much for me Victor and I always noticed, but I never gave back any of that kindness," he smiled apologetically. "So from now on I'll try to do better, I promise."

Victor took his hand and nuzzled his cheek against the back of it, sighing a soft: "Oh, Yuuri."

Yuuri leaned down and kissed what he thought was the tip of Victor's nose. (He hit bull's-eye.)

Victor chuckled softly, his breath fanning against Yuuri's chin.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to reciprocate, Yuuri," he said a moment later. "I'm just doing it because I want to. Because I want to _woo_ _you properly_."

It was Yuuri's turn to laugh, even when his cheeks felt a little bit warmer.

"But what if I want to woo you properly, too?" he returned, and he couldn't tell, but from the way Victor ducked his chin down just a little, Yuuri would chance a guess that he wasn't the only one blushing now.

So he kissed both of Victor's cheeks, his forehead and his lips – a lingering kiss that Victor didn't allow to end until Yuuri's back started straining from the position. They lied next to each other in complete darkness, grinning and holding hands, and Yuuri knew that in that moment both of their hearts were beating to the same rhythm of " _I never want this to end_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHO WANTS YUURI TO WOO HIS BOY WITH KINDNESS AND CHARM INSTEAD OF ONLY SEDUCING HIM, HANDS UP  
> *insert that gif of hermione raising her hand faster than harry can catch a snitch*


	50. pocky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Pocky day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last minute rush for pocky day, enjoy~

"What's this?" Victor asks when Yuuri shows him a small red box which looks like chocolate coated breadsticks, empty calories and regret.

"It's Pocky day," Yuuri replies. He fidgets a little, glances at Victor and then immediately away. There's a blush rising on his cheeks and oh... now Victor's intrigued.

"Pocky day?"

Yuuri taps the front of the box with his finger. Yes, there's a clear 'Pocky' written on the front in bulky white letters. Victor has noticed it before, so he only smiles indulgently and waits for Yuuri to speak up. Which he does. With a deepening blush and to Victor's growing curiosity.

"It's just this day, the 11th of the 11th month, where you're supposed to eat these and for some reason Mari sneaked some in the last package," Yuuri explains.

What he doesn't explain is his flushed face, which makes Victor even more eager to step closer. Yuuri doesn't look at him anymore. He opens the box as if to distract himself, and then offers Victor a stick right from the silvery shiny sleeve. Victor takes it, both curious and confused.

"Why this date though? Is it symbolic?" he asks, looking at a single pocky and counting in his head the additional time he'd have to spend in the gym if he were to indulge. Was it worth it?

"All the 1s represent pocky sticks," Yuuri says. "Like, you know..."

He trails off and lifts a finger up instead. Victor looks at it and suddenly he gets it.

"Oh!" he lights up with a smile as he puts the stick he's holding next to Yuuri's finger. "So this is eleven, and then you have," He pulls Yuuri's wrist to the side, moving his own alongside it, "another eleven, so the 11th of the 11th month, right? That's so clever!"

Yuuri smiles back at him. Before he can say anything, though, Victor cocks his head to the side.

"Still doesn't mean you should eat the whole thing," he judges.

Yuuri's blush rises as if Victor has caught him doing something he shouldn't be doing, but Yuuri only shakes his head hard enough that his glasses slip a little down his nose. He pushes them up absently, while Victor has to hold back the urge to kiss his nose then and there.

"I wasn't planning to," Yuuri tells Victor honestly. "There's this... thing in Japan. For couples, I mean."

All it takes is that one word and Victor finds himself at full attention again. He doesn't need to say 'I'm listening' for Yuuri to continue: Yuuri's eyes shine with a hint of mischief when he looks Victor in the eye and Victor is already gone into the land of making excuses for eating the entire box before Yuuri even opens his mouth again.

Yuuri carefully takes the stick from Victor's fingers.

"One person puts a pocky between their lips, like so," he says and pushes the end against Victor's bottom lip.

Without even thinking about it, Victor opens his mouth just a little to let it slide in. Blood suddenly rushes to his head when the tip of Yuuri's ring finger brushes against his lips and he shivers when Yuuri's pinky taps his jaw in a signal to shut his mouth. He obeys like he was born to do it. Something in Yuuri's expression shifts and he cracks a smile: small, but undeniably pleased.

Victor's entire being shivers now, too.

"You keep still like that," Yuuri tells him, smooth melted chocolate in his voice.

Even if Victor wanted to disagree, he couldn't, because his mouth is currently too busy for that. And when Yuuri leans in close enough for his breath to tickle and tease at Victor's lips, Victor freezes in expectation – just like Yuuri has told him to do.

"And then the other person just needs to..."

Victor's eyes widen a fraction as he watches Yuuri bite down on the free end of the pocky stick. He moves his head slowly, biting down more, and more, and more, until their noses bump. Positively breathless, Victor thinks this is the end, but he's wrong. And he's happy he's wrong.

Because Yuuri only tilts his head to the side and closes the rest of the distance between them as he bites the final time. There's no more pocky left, Victor knows, but Yuuri doesn't pull back immediately.

"I win," he says.

Victor doesn't know what it is exactly that Yuuri won, but it does feel like a loss when he doesn't get a kiss out of this whole thing. So he takes in the last bit of the stick that's left between his lips and then presses himself against Yuuri. Their lips meet. It's a shallow kiss, since they both need to chew and swallow first, but the warmth of _touching Yuuri, kissing Yuuri, being close to Yuuri_ is there.

And that's all Victor needs. That, and–

"I want a rematch," he demands, and Yuuri's lips quirk up like he was expecting this.

They go through the entire sleeve of pocky before Victor is satisfied, but even then he can't help himself from indulging a little bit more as he kisses off the sweet taste of chocolate from Yuuri's lips. There will be time for regrets and calorie calculations later, he thinks right before Yuuri's tongue runs hot over his bottom lip and his mind goes blissfully blank.

Mm, he needs to thank Mari, too. But later... much, much later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now I want some too gdi


	51. too pretty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is just too pretty sometimes.

Victor stared down at Yuuri incredulously, his mouth half open in shock.

"Did you just... hit me with a pillow?"

"I believe so, yes," Yuuri replied, not even an ounce of shame in his voice. His cheeks were flushed a beautiful pink, his hair was in complete disarray and he was smiling – that cheeky little grin that always made Victor's heart tremble with want. "What are you going to do about it?"

Honestly.

What _was_ Victor to do about it?

Stupidly charmed, he leaned over the gorgeous man he had the utter delight to call his fiancé and plucked the blue glasses off his nose. Yuuri's eyes crossed funnily as he watched Victor carefully place them out of reach. Victor wasted no time in pressing a small kiss to Yuuri's nose afterwards. It wrinkled adorably, and Victor snickered.

And then he took the pillow Yuuri had just used to whack him in the head, doing the same to Yuuri's now glasses-free face.

The pillow landed with a loud whoop. Yuuri squeaked, loud and surprised, which made Victor chortle as he rolled away. Victor was all ready for a fight with his own pillow held at the ready when Yuuri lifted his off his face. Brown eyes, wide and so, so lovely, were burning with a challenge that Victor could feel perfectly mirrored the one coursing through his veins. He grinned at Yuuri and Yuuri grinned back.

"You're on," Yuuri said and that was all it took.

Laughing like idiots, they kept hitting each other until their bed turned into a mess of tangled sheets and the seams on the pillows ripped, covering them – and the room – with fluffy, white feathers. Only when both of the pillows were nothing more than the empty covers, since all the stuffing was currently on them or around them, did they called a truce. They fell onto the bed tiredly, raising a cloud of feathers. Their breathing was heavy and their cheeks were more than flushed, but the happy smiles on their faces were more than worth it.

After a moment of staring into the ceiling, Victor turned his head to the side to look at Yuuri. His hair was even messier than before and there were a few feathers stuck here and there. Lips curled in a fond smile, Victor plucked them out one by one, gently running his fingers through Yuuri's soft locks.

Yuuri watched him do it without a word, but his eyes were speaking for him enough: there was fondness inside his gaze, a warmth of affection that was more than mutual. Victor closed the small distance between them and kissed Yuuri softly, because words had failed him. Yuuri sighed against his mouth, a relaxed, lovely sound that made happiness burn with a low flame in Victor's chest. Yuuri's hand came up to rest against the side of Victor's neck, thumb stroking soothingly across his jugular in a caress so tender that Victor couldn't withhold a shiver.

When he pulled back for breath, he rubbed his nose on Yuuri's, his eyes melting into warm brown.

"So what brought this on?" he asked, content with the way Yuuri's hand moved to rest on his chest.

Yuuri mumbled a bit sheepishly. "It's silly."

"I love silly," Victor declared and Yuuri chuckled at that.

"Of course you do," he said in a light, teasing tone.

"So?" Victor pressed, eagerly shifting closer. "Will you tell me?"

Yuuri debated it for a moment. And then he bit his lip and his cheeks coloured when he said:

"You just looked too pretty."

Victor broke.

For one, Yuuri had called him _pretty_. His heart skipped a beat and he was certain a flush that matched Yuuri's perfectly was making its way onto his face.

But then his mind caught up with the rest of what Yuuri had said. His lips twitched.

"You thought I looked too pretty, so you... whacked me with a pillow?" Victor asked, barely holding back his amusement.

Yuuri groaned, covering his face with his hands.

"It seemed like a good idea at the moment!" And then when Victor started laughing, he added in a pained voice: "Don't laugh!"

Victor only cackled louder, curling around Yuuri and sobbing tears of laughter into Yuuri's shoulder.

It took a moment for him to regain his breathing and dial down his amusement. Still grinning widely, he wiped the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes before he looked into Yuuri's face that was now a lovely shade of embarrassed pink. Without much thought, Victor pressed light kisses to both of Yuuri's cheeks.

"Sorry for laughing," he said. "It was just so adorable."

Yuuri flushed harder, his eyes flitting to the side. Victor smiled at him, a tiny teasing curl at one corner of his mouth.

"Next time, though, how about you hit me with something else other than a pillow?" he asked, tapping a finger on Yuuri's lips in a clear hint.

Instead of answering with words, Yuuri pulled him into a kiss, which Victor guessed was just as good an answer. Or maybe he was being pretty again. Who knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //groans in frustration bc pretty victor is too pretty and I want to whack him with soft kisses and affection  
> ryxcktjhjn


	52. free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is just tired of being sexy. Phichit is there to tell him he doesn't have to be sexy at all to steal hearts.

Phichit was there, and it was rare in and of itself – happened only once every blue moon, when the stars aligned across the horizon and allowed them to compete in the same events... or when they freed their schedules for a romantic getaway from the rest of the world – but he was now within reach and for all of Chris' pining he should be craving his touch.

He wasn't.

He was just so–

"Tired," he mumbled when Phichit's adventurous lips reached his own.

"Busy day?" Phichit asked, smiling in that special way of his that spoke of all the secrets he knew and wouldn't share.

Chris only grunted. His arm was wrapped around Phichit's waist lazily. If it dropped to the sheets by chance, Chris was not sure he would have the strength to use it again. Phichit shifted above him like the agile little dryad he was and straddled Chris' hips. Their legs were tangled and bare like the rest of them, and the brush of Phichit's soft skin would've usually made Chris think of anything but sleep. Usually.

"How can I help?"

Phichit's touch turned soft, gentle. The very thought that someone could care that much about his mood almost ripped a chasm in Chris' heart. Phichit began drawing circles on Chris' chest, a pleasant distraction from the ache inside of him. It seemed like he could feel Chris' inner turmoil, but that wasn't possible. And yet, Chris has known Phichit long enough not to question his intuition, so he said nothing, did nothing: simply let him do as he pleased.

As it was with everything else though, Phichit grew bored quickly. His dexterous hand moved up, fingers lightly tracing over Chris' collarbones and up, up his throat. They tapped on his chin, moved to his lips, teasing, expecting, eager.

But all Chris could do was sigh.

He took the slender wrist to stop Phichit's exploration and placed a soft kiss to the center of his palm.

"I'm tired," Chris repeated. "Sorry."

He didn't know what to expect after that. Phichit leaving? Maybe an annoyed huff and a few disappointed words? A comment about what good was he worth if he couldn't perform? The last one was hardly possible, Chris knew that Phichit wasn't like that. But to his surprise, none of the others happened either.

Instead, Phichit took back his hand and slid off of Chris. He curled himself up next to him and, on his own, wrapped Chris' limp arm back around his shoulders. It took effort, but Chris forced himself to turn his head and kiss Phichit's forehead, and brow, and the space between his eyes, which made Phichit snort.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Phichit asked then.

Chris considered it, for one crazy moment, and finally said: "Not really."

Phichit only hummed and accepted it. The silence settled around them like a comfortable blanket on a winter night, but something still didn't sit right with Chris so he opened his mouth when he really just should've kept it shut.

"Everyone always talks about me like I'm some sex icon," he mumbled into Phichit's hair. "I'm happy about that, sure. It's distinctive and flattering. Something for the fans to recognize me among the competition. And I love when people swoon when they see me. That, too."

"You would," Phichit laughed a little. His breath warmed Chris' chest, but it didn't reach his heart.

"But it gets so exhausting sometimes," Chris continued.

He turned to the side to wrap himself around Phichit and hold him tight, as if pulling Phichit's body flush against his own could chase away his sorrows. It did for a moment, but the exhaustion that has already settled deep in Chris' bones, has rotted through the tissue of his body, has ached in his muscles with every breath... it was still there, unbroken.

"I'm just so tired of always being sexy and hot and _mature eros_ ," he complained in a tired, weary voice. "Why can't I be innocent without being accused of trickery? Why can't people believe it when I'm true and honest? Not everything I say is an innuendo, not everything I want is related to sex. I'm not just a joke to laugh at. I know the image I put out, but, Lord, it is so hard to just be myself sometimes..."

Phichit didn't say anything to that, he only kissed Chris collarbone, a chaste press of warm lips against Chris chilling skin.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be burdening you with this. Forget it," Chris said and attempted to roll onto his back and away from Phichit, who even in his silence was making him feel better and worse all at the same time.

Phichit's arms refused to let him go.

"You're not burdening me," Phichit finally said. He lifted his head and with gentle fingers on Chris' jaw guided their gazes to meet. "I asked if I could help. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to hear it."

Chris didn't even feel when his lips quirked up in a tiny smile, but he could see that they did: Phichit's face softened in response. There was something calming in looking into Phichit's dark, dark eyes. They were vast like the outer space, unreadable, unreachable, but so warm, still.

Before he knew it, Chris was leaning forward to press their foreheads together just so he could get closer to the abyss of his gaze. Phichit smiled.

"If you want people to notice the real you, you should show them this," he said, running a soothing hand through the undercut on the base of Chris' neck. "They know only the side of you that you let them see. You hide away your anger and worry and fear, what can they think of you if all that you always give them to look at is the perfect god of love with no human emotions to make him less?"

"A god of love?" Chris couldn't help but lift an eyebrow. "And perfect, now, am I?"

Phichit gave a little snort. Chris' lips twitched, the first real sign of feeling coming back into his body.

"You're not perfect, Chris," Phichit said. "Far from it. But the real you is someone that people will love." He smiled then, a sweet, small thing, as he finished in a whisper: "I know I do."

It took more than an hour before Chris had stopped trembling inside Phichit's arms, and it took another before he could stop kissing every inch of Phichit's face, neck, shoulders and chest that he could reach. Phichit's laughter was a balm on the wounds of Chris' soul and his words rang through Chris' mind and heart alike, because he was right. It was time for people to know the real Christophe Giacometti. Time to be free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just... love my sweet swiss son so much? pls don't treat him like a joke he deserves better


	53. from time to time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoever said Victor knew what he was doing when he tried to seduce Yuuri with that off-the-shoulder drop of the onsen robe was wrong. Victor is just lazy.

It's impossible to look away from Victor Nikiforov when he's smiling at you or when he's bathed in the light of the early morning, but it is also just as impossible to look away from him when he's asleep – with his mouth left ajar and hair swiped out of his forehead in a messy tangle of locks; he looks imperfect, human, and yet there's something about him that bleeds ethereal into the mundane of the world.

Yuuri can't resist.

Sunday comes once again and it's his turn to walk Makkachin, so he regretfully slips out of the warm embrace of Victor's arms and gets out of the bed. His jaw cracks with the force of his yawn. Makkachin is sitting at the foot of the bed expectantly, waiting for one glance from Yuuri, one magical word, but Yuuri doesn't look his way, not yet. All of his attention is stolen by Victor who picks that moment to roll over into the space Yuuri has just vacated. Victor releases a tiny sigh as if the warmth of Yuuri's body that's still locked within the sheets gave him comfort. Yuuri knows it does, just as much as it brings Yuuri comfort when he smushes his own face in Victor's pillow.

Yuuri shivers, his skin raising in goosebumps; outside of the bed it's cold. But looking at Victor now helps a little and a small smile makes it onto Yuuri's face. It's only there for a brief second, though. Yuuri can't possibly keep it up when he gasps at the raspy, hoarse moan that leaves Victor's throat. Like a deep rumble of the sky during a storm, it comes from within Victor's chest and sets Yuuri's heart afire like the shock of the thunder that follows.

And if that was it maybe Yuuri would've been fine.

It isn't.

Victor's shoulder blades shift when he wraps his arms around Yuuri's pillow, a play of muscles on the bare expanse of his back that Yuuri remembers digging his nails into just the night before, and Victor's spine arches. He looks like a cat, curled into the sun spot and moving along with its warmth. Much unlike a cat, though, Victor bites on his lip in his sleep, sucks it into his mouth and lets go: it comes out wet, and red, a little swollen, and Yuuri feels the heat wake in his own body like a fever.

He wants to shake it off, to focus on Makkachin and the cold, cold run he has to suffer through soon, but he can't look away – not when Victor's lips part and Yuuri's name leaves them in a soft, breathy plea.

"Yuuri..." Victor mumbles, snuggling his face into Yuuri's pillow where his sent and warmth lingers.

There is affection and attraction in equal measure coursing through Yuuri's veins now. Sleep has been chased away from him long ago, but Victor, who is still wrapped inside its clutches, dreams: he dreams of Yuuri, that's for sure, and of things that instantly make Yuuri's cheeks flush. He doesn't need to imagine what it exactly – _he knows_. He's seen Victor suck on his lip during intimate moments, has felt it done to him as well when Victor got playful, and he knows the way Victor's spine arches when he's begging for the deep, thick slide of–

Yuuri swallows harshly, forcing himself to look away before he does something stupid. Like jumping back into bed and ravishing Victor with kisses until Victor can only repeat Yuuri's name in that needy, choked way that makes Yuuri feel the most powerful he's ever felt.

Makkachin licks at his hand and it breaks Yuuri out of his thoughts.

"Yes, yes, we're going," he tells him quietly, cheeks burning.

Makka's tail wags and he jumps off the bed. He trots off to the bathroom, probably, and Yuuri is left alone with his silly, seductive fiancé who currently has no idea what he's doing to him, but _is doing it anyway_. He reaches out a hand, pushes Victor's hair back and rests a little kiss on the high point of Victor's forehead, right where he knows would make Victor pout if he knew. It gives Yuuri some satisfaction, a battle plan against the tempting charms Victor is so innocently displaying for him.

"I love you, silly," Yuuri whispers with his nose buried in Victor's hair.

There is no reply, but Yuuri doesn't expect one. He leaves the room with a small smile and his pyjama pants just a little dented on the front. Even if Victor's sleepy seduction was only meant for dream Yuuri, it doesn't mean real Yuuri couldn't appreciate it just as much.

Although running Yuuri wished his fiancé could be a little less beautiful... just from time to time. Honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something smol and rushed for [@saniika](http://saniika.tumblr.com/), hope you enjoyed it love~


	54. a small reminder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Yuuri's 26 birthday. The ring on his finger means a lot more than just a promise and his surname now has two parts to it. And Yuuri couldn't be happier if he wanted to... which he really doesn't. He's good, thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUURI!!!!!!!!

"Good morning, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov."

–is what Yuuri wakes up to.

It's paired with a gentle hand running through his hair and soft lips kissing his forehead and brow. He feels warm and loved, and comfortable enough to shift closer until he bumps his nose against Victor's chest. He snuggles into it, throws an arm around Victor, and hums when he gets a whiff of Victor's smell: safe and homey.

"Come now, wake up, love. You don't want to sleep through the day," Victor tells him, but he doesn't push him.

The hand is still in Yuuri's hair, nails scraping across his scalp in a way that gives Yuuri enough temptation to slip back into sleep. He mumbles something into Victor's chest, he doesn't really know how to operate words yet, it's too early. Victor chuckles at that. It jostles Yuuri from his comfortable place and he's ready to complain, but when cracks his eyes open, it all dies on his tongue.

Victor is a vision: bathed in the morning light, with love-warmed gaze and lips curled into a smile that Yuuri could look at for the rest of his life.

Could? No, _he can_. Because the rest of his life is to be spent with this beautiful, kind man at his side. Or so says the sets of matching rings on their fingers.

Suddenly sleep isn't so hard to resist anymore.

"Good morning to you too, Mr. Katsuki-Nikiforov," Yuuri smiles, lazy, as he rolls onto his back to look fully into Victor's face.

The slow burn of love in his chest is infectious enough that he can't stop himself from leaning over for a proper good morning kiss. Victor indulges him, gladly, and they kiss for a blissful moment: wrapped in the closeness of each other and the sunlight filtering through the halfway open curtains. It's too soon when Victor pulls back, but a dozen more kisses he's left on Yuuri's lips helps a little.

All it takes is one glance at Victor and Yuuri knows that he's been awake for quite some time already – there's a brightness in Victor's eyes, sweetness in his smile and excitement in the gorgeous flush of his cheeks. He looks both handsome and cute, and not for the first time Yuuri catches himself wondering what it was that he did to deserve a man like this. And as usual, he can think of nothing. It's simply a miracle that he'll have to live with, and oh, he loves living with it.

"I have presents for you!" Victor announces, bubbly and joyful. It pulls a silly grin from Yuuri before his mind even fully registers the words.

"Presents? As in... _more than one_?" he asks. And his smile drops. "Victor, you shouldn't have!"

"But I did anyway," Victor grins, unbothered.

He fakes a pout a second later, which looks ridiculous and adorable, _ridiculously adorable_ , and Yuuri feels like he's still not awake enough to deal with that. And Victor knows it when he gives him his best puppy eyes and asks:

"Are you going to make me take them back?"

There is no way Yuuri can ever deny Victor anything when he uses _that_ on him, but he tries. He really does. He keeps up his frown, draws his lips together and gives Victor his best disapproving look... but in the end he's too soft to really be mad about something as silly as _presents_.

So he sighs and lets his frown slip.

"Alright, fine," he gives. "But if there is something even a little over-the-top expensive, we're taking it back tomorrow."

Victor's face opens up like a morning glory under the first rays of the sun. How can Yuuri ever tell him no when a yes earns him a sight like that? He smiles back, helpless.

"You'll love them, I promise," Victor assures.

He's grinning like a loon now, but soon it morphs from the giddy excitement into something more subtle, something more breathtaking... something that makes Yuuri's heart swell inside his chest with affection and expectation.

"First, though," Victor says as he leans close and Yuuri shifts to accommodate him almost on instinct, "I need to give you your birthday kisses."

He runs the tip of his nose against Yuuri's. It tickles and Yuuri giggles, unable to hold it in. This Russian tradition – or at least Yuuri thinks it's Russian, but maybe it's just another one of Victor's peculiarities – is a thing he's familiar with: ever since they got together, each year right on Yuuri's birthday, Victor insists on kissing him exactly as many times as the years Yuuri's celebrating that day. It's a sweet tradition, one that no one could really be upset with, so Yuuri submits himself to the kisses every year with flushed cheeks and laughter on his lips.

He does so this year as well, smiling into Victor's mouth, kissing the grin off Victor's lips and sharing his laugh.

One, two, three, four, five, six... Yuuri can feel his heartbeat quicken, his breaths shallow, but he doesn't want to stop – not yet.

Seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve... He groans when Victor nips at his bottom lip like he knows Yuuri is weak to.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen... Victor's hair is smooth under Yuuri's fingers and Yuuri wants to mess it up. So he does: moves his hand through it, grabs at it and pulls until Victor gasps into him and Yuuri can sneak his tongue inside his mouth with growing pleasure.

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen... Victor's greedy moan tastes like sunlight on Yuuri's tongue and his hands feel like heaven when they settle on Yuuri's hips, right where the skin shows between the hems of his pyjamas.

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four... Yuuri's reminded of their first kiss, of how their tentative touches and uncertain lips turned into this, now, where he can pull Victor down by the nape and steal the air from his lungs as easily as Victor has always done to him. It feels right, it feels powerful, it feels _good_.

Twenty-five and, all too soon, twenty-six... And, before Victor can move away, Yuuri presses his hot lips against Victor's flushed cheek, jaw, chin, while the rustle of their unsteady breathing creates a melody for their hearts to dance to.

Victor chuckles, a little unsteady, but joyful.

"This gets more and more fun each year," he says, eyes alight with love.

Yuuri laughs, too. "I get to kiss you even more on your birthday, you know."

"Oh yes, I know," Victor grins. "And I thoroughly enjoy my kisses. Did you like yours?"

"Hmm..."

Yuuri tilts his head and traces his fingers up from Victor's neck to his kiss swollen lips. He licks his own briefly, still able to taste the remnants of Victor's lip balm on the now sensitive skin around his mouth. Victor's eyes flick down to the movement like they're moths drawn to a flame and the powerful, hot warmth settles in Yuuri's bones.

The corner of his mouth quirks.

"I think I need a small reminder," he says.

Victor laughs, but in the end he's more than happy to refresh Yuuri's memory. Three times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I write a lot of these 'chara a wakes up in bed and is doted on by chara b' but... I live for soft mornings in bed with smooches and warmth so FUCKING SUE ME //flips off the haters


	55. cotton candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor buys new laundry detergent. Yuuri hates it.

"Why do you smell like cotton candy?"

Yuuri frowned, pulling away from the hug Victor had engulfed him in as soon as he stepped inside their flat. His nose wrinkled as he sniffed at Victor who, true to Yuuri's word, smelled heavily of cotton candy: sickly sweet and overpowering. It wasn't bad per se, it was just different and something that Yuuri – as used to Victor's natural scent and his various kinds of cologne as he was after almost two years of living with him – recognized immediately.

Victor only grinned.

"I got this new laundry detergent, so now we can both smell like cotton candy! Isn't this great?"

Yuuri wasn't so sure it was, but seeing the delighted twinkle in Victor's eyes he couldn't deny him this small pleasure. So he smiled as well and indulged Victor with a nod of agreement.

Barely a week later all of Victor's clothes started smelling like cotton candy. All of Yuuri's as well. Their sheets. Pillow cases. Blankets. Towels and rags. Even the kitchen cloths.

 _Every-damn-thing_ smelled like cotton candy.

At first, Yuuri was fine with it. Victor was happy, so Yuuri was happy – it was as simple as that. But after a week, and then another, and then another... there was only so much a sane person could handle and when one day, in a house smelling of cotton candy, Yuuri pulled out his freshly folded underwear out of the drawer and smelled the overpowering sweet scent, he almost retched.

And decided that enough was enough.

He made his way to the living room and stopped at the couch where Victor was reclining, aimlessly skipping through channels on the TV. Lips set, arms folded across his chest and clear business on his face, Yuuri stared him down.

"Victor, we need to talk," he said.

Victor blinked, startled out of his thoughts, but as soon as he saw him, his face split in a grin. It froze at the clearly unhappy expression on Yuuri's face and then fell and crashed, almost as fast as Yuuri kept falling on his new quad. Yuuri could almost hear the imaginary snap of the blade against the ice in the sudden silence when Victor turned the TV off in stilted movements.

He sat up then, serious, and waited while Yuuri took a place next to him. He was tense, Yuuri could see it clearly in the set of his shoulders. Sighing, he put his arm around Victor and rubbed his lower back soothingly. It helped to ease Victor's nerves a little and it did the same to Yuuri, who didn't even know he was on guard until he allowed himself to breathe deeper.

"What did you want to talk about?" Victor asked carefully after a moment.

"Oh, yeah, that," Yuuri remembered. He focused so much on aligning their breathing that he almost forgot what he came over to say. "The laundry detergent. It has to go."

"What?" Victor's eyes snapped to him in surprise. "Why?"

Yuuri groaned. "I can't stand it. Everything smells of cotton candy and it's just too much, too sweet, too _everywhere_." He groaned again. "I feel like I'm going to turn into cotton candy myself."

"You're already sweet enough, so it's definitely possible," Victor grinned back in reply and Yuuri poked one of his cheeks.

"Not the point," he said, ignoring the familiar way blood rushed to his cheeks. "I just miss the times when I could smell you in the apartment. And me. _Us_. It made this home, you know?" He wrinkled his nose and added: "Now it's just cotton candy."

Victor's eyes sparkled and his smile turned that special kind of adorable. Yuuri knew something embarrassing must be coming when Victor opened his mouth, so he closed his eyes and waited, hoping, praying–

"Yuuri," Victor crooned. "You should've told me sooner! If you want to smell me so badly something always could be arranged."

–but all his prayers remained unanswered.

He wanted to cover his face in embarrassment, but didn't. It would only fuel Victor more if he gave into his teasing and while Yuuri was fine with Victor lavishing him in sweet words, praises and compliments from time to time, right at this moment he had other things to take care of. He fought down his blush and the heat in his chest which made it really hard to stay clearheaded, and twisted his fingers into the fabric of Victor's shirt. He looked right into Victor's amused face.

"You're right," he agreed. And tugged on the shirt. "Take this off. Now."

Victor's eyes widened, but he followed the request without any prompting. The shirt was slung over the back of the couch, forgotten as soon as it left Victor's hand. Yuuri didn't wait for anything else.

He climbed into Victor's lap, pushing him back until he was lying on the couch. Victor's chest was warm under his hands and Yuuri run his fingers lightly over the muscles and Victor's ticklish sides, before he pressed himself down until he was sprawled on top of Victor with his face thrust into the crook of Victor's neck – nuzzling, sniffing, pressing small kisses to the heavenly warm skin that finally, _finally_ , smelled like Victor again.

Yuuri sighed happily, closing his eyes and humming when Victor's arms wound around his waist to keep him from accidentally falling off.

"What scent should we get now, then?" Victor mused out loud. Yuuri lifted his head enough to sent him a glare, which made a soft laugh rumble through Victor's chest. "Let's go for scent-less this time, hmm?"

Yuuri's only reply was a tiny kiss to the underside of Victor's chin. Victor chuckled and kissed the top of Yuuri's head, and as Yuuri breathed deeply again, he thought that this was how it should be – Victor's scent mixed with his, the incomparable scent of home. Fuck cotton candy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cotton candy laundry detergent is entirely fictional... or is it ;3c
> 
> also, I'm sorry I'm not replying to comments at the moment I just had some really hectic 2 weeks and I'm basically posting stuff out of my drafts bc I have no time for anything but I promise everyone will get a reply within next week! once again, sorry, and I love and appreciate every single one of the comments you guys leave, you're all lovely and I hope you have a fantastic weekend //sends love and smooches~


	56. all mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is beautiful. Victor is incredible. Victor is all Yuuri's.

There was something incredibly beautiful about Victor, both soft and sharp, when he stood in the park in the late evenings, bathed in the dark that was dispersed only by the orange glow of the street lamp at his back. His hair looked like moonlight itself – translucent, yet human; there for Yuuri to touch. A halo seemed to wrap around the crown of his head, the dim light of the lamp playing its tricks with Yuuri's imagination, because truly Victor looked like an angel sent from above.

But the most change was on Victor's face, where the shadows and the light made him look young and happy one moment and old, dissatisfied, frowning the next. The dichotomy took Yuuri's breath away every day and, frankly, he didn't think he could ever get used to it.

Victor smiled at him when he caught him staring at his profile yet again. Yuuri blushed a little, but there was no escaping it.

"Hi," Victor said, the silly man that he was. He wrapped an arm around Yuuri's waist and plastered himself to Yuuri's side like the centimetres of distance between them were too much. (They were.)

"Hi," Yuuri mumbled back, but there was a grin blossoming on his face right behind the wool of his scarf.

"How are you doing?" Victor asked as if he didn't know. As if he wasn't there for every second of Yuuri's day.

Yuuri huffed a small laugh.

"Really good," he replied, leaning against Victor a little. He let his head rest against Victor's shoulder. "Even better now."

"You're so sweet," Victor crooned softly.

His arms wrapped tighter around Yuuri. Yuuri, smiling, lifted a hand up to run through Victor's hair and tilt his head down.

"And you're so beautiful," he replied, courageous for once.

There was a flush on his cheeks, there always was whenever he mustered up the courage to say what was buzzing in his mind. This time, though, he wasn't the only one blushing. Victor's face was already pink from the chill and the wind, but at Yuuri's words the colour deepened sweetly. Yuuri could get drunk on it, he'd bet.

Before either of them could move, before Yuuri could climb onto his tiptoes and kiss Victor like he so wanted to, Makkachin's barking made them both startle. They looked the dog's way and found him chasing after the leaves that the wind was picking off the ground every now and then. Yuuri felt Victor shake with silent laughter and he couldn't really hold back a grin of his own.

"He's so cute," Victor said, warmth and love in his voice.

"You're cute," Yuuri blurted out.

Victor's head snapped back to him: red cheeks, sparkling eyes, smiling mouth. Yuuri couldn't say he didn't enjoy this strange looseness of his tongue. Especially if it got Victor looking at him like that.

"Are we that couple now?" Victor asked, thoughtful. "Because you're far cuter than me, love."

"Lies," Yuuri replied, hard. "You're prettier."

Victor hummed. "Debatable. You're more handsome."

"I am not!" Yuuri gasped, offended. How dare Victor say that after looking into a mirror every single day? "You take that back!"

"But you are!" Victor protested. "Ask anyone!"

"Fine," Yuuri huffed.

He looked around, spotted a girl walking their way with a pup on a short leash, and threw Victor a look. Victor's face was drawn in a confused 'o' for a second when he saw Yuuri trot over to talk to her in his still wonky Russian. The expression cleared, replaced by a small, still uncertain smile once they both made their way towards him. The girl's eyes raked over Victor like she was judging an art piece and then did the same to Yuuri.

"Sorry," she said. Then, nodded her chin at Victor."He's more handsome."

Yuuri's face brightened triumphantly. He thanked the girl and, once she left, turned expectantly to Victor who still seemed a bit peeved about the whole thing.

"See? I was right," Yuuri said, oddly satisfied about it. It just felt so good to hear that other people were able to see how special Victor was. "You're so handsome."

Victor finally opened his mouth to argue, but Yuuri put a finger to his lips.

"So pretty," he said.

He stepped closer and took Victor's face in his hands, climbing to his toes to look him straight in the eye.

"So cute," he added when Victor's cheeks flushed.

He stroked his thumbs over the patches of colour, leaning close until their cold noses touched.

"So beautiful," he whispered.

"You're so unfair, Yuuri," Victor's voice was just a breath louder than the wind, but Yuuri heard the unmistakable whine in it.

He smiled.

"I am, aren't I?"

He closed the rest of the distance between them and, cradling Victor's face, kissed him softly, tenderly, lovingly – just how Victor had always made him feel. Victor's arms wrapped around him securely, pulling him into his body as if he wanted them to mould into one. Yuuri melted into it, against the wind and reason, and kissed Victor harder.

They were both flushed and panting warm puffs of air when they parted, but the quirk of Victor's lips was reflected on Yuuri's as well.

"You're so incredible, Victor," Yuuri told him once more, because it was true. Because he could. Because he wanted to. "And you're all mine."

Victor's amused face softened when he agreed, "All yours."

"How did that even happen?" Yuuri asked, happy, but also incredulous. Like he always was when he looked at their engagement rings, at their photos, at their apartment, their dog, their lives, _Victor_...

"Honestly?" Victor laughed. "I have no idea. But I'm so glad it worked."

Yuuri shared his laugh, even when Victor's lips claimed his again, because really: he was so glad, too. The luckiest man on Earth engaged to the sweetest man in the universe. That sounded about right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I!!!!!!!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!! VICTOR!!!!!!!!!! NIKIFOROV!!!!!!!!! SO!!!!!!!!!!! MUCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> and I need yuuri to dote on him like the end of the world is coming for them


	57. in sickness and in health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor gets a headache that even Yuuri, as sweet as he is, can't soothe.

"It's only a headache," Victor says as he slumps on the couch, completely ignoring Makkachin's concerned licks at his elbow. Just that makes Yuuri certain it isn't that simple.

"Doesn't matter," Yuuri tells him. "You stay here and rest, and I'll get everything else done."

The fact that Victor doesn't argue is enough to make Yuuri's frown deepen. Before he takes Makkachin on a walk, he takes a spare hand towel from the bathroom and wets it in hot water. When Yuuri returns to the living room, Victor's mouth is parted on weary breaths and the heels of his palms are pressed hard into his eyes as if he's hoping it'll help. Maybe it does, but he can't stay like that forever.

"Here," Yuuri says, gently prying Victor's hands away and putting the folded towel over his eyes and temples. "This should help a little. Do you want a painkiller too?"

Victor sighs when the heat of the towel brings him momentary relief.

"No painkillers," he mumbles. "I get sick from the headache ones and the others don't really work for this."

"Okay," Yuuri gives.

He squeezes Victor's arm a little, but he can't help feeling like he didn't do enough so he leans down and presses a kiss to the strip of Victor's hairline that's visible above the towel. Victor's lips quirk in a smile that's so weak and unlike his usual one that Yuuri kisses it, too.

"Love you," Victor sighs against his lips.

Yuuri smiles despite himself.

"Rest up, Vitya," he says instead. "We'll be right back from the walk. Maybe try to nap for a bit?"

Victor only gives a small sound that is neither a hum nor a groan. Yuuri looks at him one more time before Makkachin begins to nuzzle his leg in earnest, impatient to go out. Yuuri puts Makka in his collar and clips in the leash as quiet as he can and they're off. It's around half an hour later when they return from the park: Makkachin's happy tongue out and paws black from the dirt.

The first thing Yuuri sees, though, is that Victor's gone from the couch. He finds him in bed after Makkachin's paws are washed and dried. Victor's lying on top of the covers with Yuuri's favourite blanket thrown over his clothes, huddled into himself like a baby. He's fast asleep, Yuuri can tell. Noiselessly, he slips out of the room, closing the door after himself to block the sounds that could wake Victor up by accident, and lets him get the rest he so clearly needs.

Victor doesn't wake up when Yuuri makes dinner. He doesn't wake up when Yuuri showers or when he turns on the TV in the living room (albeit, on the lowest volume he can hear) to watch whatever it was they were playing while he's texting Phichit. He doesn't wake up when Yuuri crawls into bed, either, so Yuuri just kisses his brow and goes to sleep.

When Victor _does_ wake up, it's the middle of the night. Yuuri knows it, because he wakes up as well – he's sleeping light and close for that exact reason. He stirs when the bed dips under Victor's weight when he sits up.

"Victor?" He cracks his eyes open. "Are you okay?"

"Bathroom," Victor slurs through a tongue heavy with sleep.

Yuuri sees his yawn and feels his own mouth part on one in solidarity. He hums when he's done.

"Hurry back," he says.

Victor's gone for no longer than a few minutes, but when he comes back Yuuri is almost falling asleep again. This time Victor slides under the covers and shifts as close to Yuuri as he can. Yuuri wraps his free arm around him and hooks a leg around the thigh that slips between his knees.

"Feel better?" Yuuri mumbles into Victor's chest.

"A lot," Victor says.

Yuuri feels something touch his hair and he smiles a little – Victor probably kissed his head.

"Good," Yuuri judges. And then adds: "I love you."

He's sleep-drunk, comfortable and hazy, so words come onto his tongue without filter or care. It's good, though, because Victor's arm around him tightens.

"I love you more," Victor rasps.

Yuuri wants to argue, since that is just completely untrue and he has it on good authority that there is no possible way that's possible, but he falls asleep before he can voice any of that: his fingers only squeeze the back of Victor's t-shirt in a vow to tell him off in the morning.

When they wake up and lazily trade kisses in bed until it's time for Makkachin's walk, Yuuri has a nagging feeling that he's forgetting something. But Victor's lips are soft, his eyes are bright, his smile is gorgeous and wide... and Yuuri gives up, because he's pretty sure it couldn't have been more important than this feeling of comfort and love that settles in his heart whenever Victor turns to him with eyes full of warmth and a smile made of sweetness.

Nothing is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get urself a personal yuuri to walk ur dog and kiss ur head whenever u get bedridden by a Big Bad Headache //prayer hands


	58. sweet love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day can only be celebrated in style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy valentine's day yall~  
> have some smuts from yours truly ;3c

"How much do you trust me?" Yuuri asked on the afternoon of the 14th of February.

He'd made Victor promise, two months in advance, not to do anything extravagant, flashy or costly on said day, so they'd agreed to a simple dinner reservation at one of Victor's favourite restaurants. It broke the rule about cost, but what Yuuri didn't know, wouldn't hurt him – especially if he enjoyed it. And oh, Victor was planning to make the most of it later that day.

Which was why it came as such a surprise when hours before Yuuri came to ask him such a seemingly innocent question on the otherwise a very not-innocent day.

"I trust you with my life, my Yuuri," Victor replied easily.

Something about Yuuri shifted then. The soft sort of nervousness he was projecting settled into warm confidence that burned through his brown eyes with a flame that instantly made Victor more than interested in whatever it was Yuuri wanted. Victor sat up straighter, all of his attention focused on Yuuri without him even asking.

"Good," Yuuri nodded. "I have a surprise for you."

He handed Victor a piece of black silk, which Victor recognized as one of his own ties. Lifting a questioning gaze at Yuuri, Victor was momentarily enraptured by the way Yuuri's face darkened into such a deep want that Victor couldn't suppress a sudden shiver from running down his spine.

"Tie it around your eyes," Yuuri ordered, voice low.

And with just those five words, he'd set all of Victor on fire.

With as much dignity as he could muster, Victor fought against his trembling fingers and wrapped the fabric around his eyes. Once that was done, he released the breath he didn't even know he was holding and swallowed through the pulse that was beating harshly in his neck.

"What now?" he asked.

His voice came out as a raspy whisper, but Victor couldn't be bothered about how it sounded now. Not when Yuuri's hands touched Victor's cheeks and pulled his face up a little so that Yuuri could kiss him gently on the lips. It was a quick kiss, but Victor's insides twisted pleasantly just from that. He knew there was a flush creeping onto his cheeks, but unable to see Yuuri's answering blush, he couldn't feel embarrassed about it.

He shivered a little when Yuuri's thumbs caressed his cheekbones.

"Stay here, I'll be right back," Yuuri told him.

He was gone a little longer than a minute, Victor counted through his elevated heartbeat, but once he got back, he took Victor's face back in his hands and gave him more kisses one by one by one.

"Yuuri," Victor whined when Yuuri once again pulled back without deepening the kiss.

"Shh," Yuuri hushed him. "I've got something better for you. Come on, open your mouth."

Eagerly, Victor did as asked. Something was placed on his tongue and when Yuuri told him to taste it, Victor did that, also. What he didn't expect, though, was a little piece of chocolate that began to melt on his tongue as soon as he closed his mouth.

Honestly, he should've expected it. When Yuuri's kisses followed the chocolate next... well, that, he did expect.

Yuuri kissed him lightly, slow, soft pecks against Victor's starving lips. One of Yuuri's hands was always on Victor's face: his cheek, his chin, sometimes his neck with only the thumb on Victor's jawline. It took little to no time for Victor to feel all of his blood running south, right to the tent in his pants that he knew was getting harder and bigger with every touch and every kiss.

A finger tapped against Victor's lips, and Victor opened them to accept a new treat, which Yuuri then kissed the taste off Victor's mouth, and repeated the process.

"Now, bite," Yuuri said after a moment when he put something bigger between Victor's teeth.

The sweet, yet sour juices flowed into Victor's mouth and he gave a surprised, but pleased moan at the taste of strawberry that was vibrant like fireworks after the mildness of the chocolate. Yuuri kissed the rest of the juices off Victor's lips and then gave him another bite, after which he put another little square of chocolate on Victor's tongue.

This time, however, he didn't wait for Victor to savour it. One of Yuuri's hands pulled harshly on Victor's hair and his lips parted in surprise, which Yuuri used to sneak his tongue into the warmth and sweetness of Victor's mouth. Yuuri licked the tick, melted chocolate that made Victor's mouth sticky, and Victor shivered at the feeling of Yuuri's slick tongue rubbing against his own.

It was filthy, it was sweet, it was so, so delicious...

When Yuuri offered Victor another piece of strawberry, Victor was almost dizzy with pleasure. He was warm and full, and his dick was throbbing somewhere down low, but if he focused only on the taste of the treats Yuuri was giving to him it was easy to ignore it. So he gladly took in the sourness after the overbearing sweetness and swallowed it all to the happy, small kisses Yuuri once again was leaving on his lips.

The unmistakable sound of the whip cream can spraying out its delicious contents made Victor's heartbeat quicken. Without being told to, he opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue, waiting for Yuuri to place another strawberry – this time covered in light cloud of cream – right onto his tongue. Victor bit into it, moaning at the mixture of flavours and Yuuri's tongue that licked off the remnants of cream from around Victor's lips.

"Your fingers," Victor begged after he'd swallowed. "Let me clean them. Please."

"Open your mouth then," Yuuri told him, and Victor could hear him spraying some more cream, which had him pant with excitement.

Yuuri's fingers were thick with cream once he'd put them in Victor's mouth, but it was even better. Victor rubbed his tongue against his knuckles, cleaned them off and swallowed around them, while flashes of hot, needy want coursed through his body. He trembled in his spot, aware of how even the slightest shift of his knees made him feel like he could come if only he _squeezed_.

He gasped when all of a sudden Yuuri pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. Victor moaned what must have been his loudest, filthiest moan yet.

"Are you ready for the last treat?" Yuuri asked and Victor keened.

"Yuuri, please–" he begged, but stopped when his ears caught the sound that froze his entire body in expectation that teetered at the edge of orgasm: the sound of a zipper going down.

Victor whimpered as another hot wave of arousal made his dick throb and he twitched, impatient. Yuuri's hands tightened on his face and kept him in place, and frankly, Victor only got harder from it.

"Shh, shh," Yuuri hushed. "Open your mouth and let your tongue out."

Victor followed the instruction immediately, panting at how badly he wanted it. Thankfully, Yuuri didn't keep him waiting for long.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Vitya," he said, letting his cock rest heavy on Victor's tongue.

Victor moaned as the salty and musky taste of _Yuuri_ assaulted his already overstimulated taste buds, but soon forgot all about it when Yuuri began to fuck his mouth with slow, purposeful slides of his hips.

_Oh_ , Victor thought, blissed out on the feeling of Yuuri's cock pushing into his throat, _it already is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been ages since I updated this collection but I promise it's all for a good reason!! I've been busy with zine pieces which is wow amazing I still can't believe ppl thought my writes were good enough to be included in a zine ahhH!!!! but most of all my time was put into a rather long hitmen au for big bang on ice that'll be going up on feb 20th so pls tune in for that bc the art is to die for and I'm so excited to present it to you guys ahhh!!!
> 
> I hope to update this collection a bit more after february so pls keep on loving our precious victuuris <3


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